Achieving Light
by forevrfallenfromglory
Summary: Voldemort is dead. But the war, it seems, has yet to truly end. Having lost his Inima, Draco is left devastated and lost. There is still hope, however, but even with the dim light it provides, evil threatens to choke it out. Will he be able to escape the darkness and achieve the light? Rated M mainly for violence. Slight AU and OOC-ness.
1. Chapter 1: Siren of Death

**A/N:** I finally did it. Finally got this posted up. I don't have a Beta, so hopefully there aren't too many errors! I tried to catch them all. :) So, **THIS IS A SEQUEL**. If you are reading this, and haven't read Escaping Darkness, you will be completely confused. :3 Um...**Warnings:** this story contains a malexmale relationship (no smut), male pregnancy (they are wizards after all), violence, minor character death, and hints at a dark past. If you no likey, you no read-y.

* * *

It had been months since Harry Potter had defeated the Dark lord, destroying himself in the process. His body was buried in a small cemetery near the Burrow, and his grieving husband and Inima, Draco Malfoy, was attending Hogwarts for his final year.

However, this year was turning out to be anything but ordinary. Draco was currently staring at a young woman, who had appeared out of the bonding ring he wore on his finger.

"I bring you a message from your Inima."

Draco couldn't breathe. "Harry?" he whispered, so quietly Hermione barely heard him from her position beside him.

"Yes."

"But he's dead." Draco's eyes hardened. "What kind of sick joke is this? Are you some simple charm that someone rigged? If so, I swear, I'm going to track them down and-"

"I am not a joke, nor a spell. I come from the Land of the Dead." Draco stopped, mid-sentence, eyeing her oddly.

"If you're from the Land of the Dead, you can answer my question…yes?"

The woman nodded slowly. "Perhaps."

"Why can't I die?" Hermione looked at him sharply, but Draco ignored her. The woman chuckled softly, her laugh every bit as musical as her voice.

"Your Inima can better explain that than myself. It is nothing to do with the Land of the Dead, but rather the matter lies in the heart of hearts itself."

"Why are you guys never clear?"

"Draco Malfoy, you are an Inima." _No duh_, he wanted to retort. "As an Inima, there are special rules by which you live. Your particular Inima happens to be a Viatacatre as well. That fact, in addition to the ring on your fingers, and the pendant around his neck, all play a part in your life or death. The answer you seek can best be answered by Harry, as I said before. The matter lies in the heart of hearts."

Draco fought to keep from rolling his eyes. "Look, I don't know what you are, or even _who_ you are-"

"I am Sirene De Moarte. But you may call me Sirena."

_I don't care what I can call you; I don't even know what that means,_ Draco thought in annoyance. As if she had heard his thoughts, the woman spoke again.

"I am the Siren of Death. I call to those whose time it is to leave this world, and journey to the Land of the Dead. I comfort those who have died before their time, and I ferry souls from one world to the next."

_Whoop-de-do._

"You said you had a message from Harry?" interrupted Hermione. Draco looked at her incredulously.

"You mean you believe her?" he asked in a low whisper, leaning close.

"Of course I do. Don't tell me you've never heard of Sirena?"

"No…"

"Come now. You're a Pureblood, you _have_ to have grown up hearing about her."

Draco now felt stupid. "Whatever," he muttered.

Sirena had watched their exchange with amused eyes. Draco now took the time to study her, feeling curious about the supposedly well-known Siren.

Her skin was pale, deathly pale, and there was a sort of…coldness about her. Yet, her piercing blue eyes sparkled in a warm, friendly, and inviting way. She seemed likeable enough, though perhaps that was her Siren nature. Her hair was stark white, with pitch-black ends, and it coiled about her face in the wind, seemingly alive, like a writhing patch of snakes. Despite the creepy, deathly aura about her, she was beautiful, and enticing. Draco and Hermione found themselves unconsciously leaning closer to her.

"Your Inima misses you greatly, as you miss him," Sirena said softly, breaking the trance. "He wants to share something with you…something that you can tell the others if you wish." She stretched out her hand to Draco, and he felt a sort of tugging within him. He slowly moved forward, barely aware that he did so. Sirena laid her hand upon his brow, her skin icy compares to his. Draco held in a shout of surprise, as suddenly, an image flashed in his mind. He fell backwards, the image growing stronger. All sight and sound faded, until he could focus on the figure. Blackness surrounded the figure, but the figure was recognizable, nonetheless.

_Harry_.

The young man looked like he always did – mussed black hair, brilliant green eyes covered by the round frames of his glasses, his clothes slightly rumpled. An easy smile spread across Harry's face, and Draco was filled with a longing to hold him close. But he couldn't move.

Instead, Harry approached. _Draco,_ he said, without opening his mouth. His voice resonated in Draco's mind. _I miss you…I wish I could be there, to explain everything to you…I've seen your sadness and misery…and I wish I could make it go away. But I'm trapped here, Draco. Trapped in the Land of the Dead. I cannot escape Death's grasp on my own…I need your help. I need _you_, Draco…You're the only one who can help me. Not Hermione, not Pansy or Blaise. Only an Inima can help me escape._

Harry's outline wavered. _I don't have much time, so I'll speak quickly. Listen to Sirena; she's a friend of mine. I've come to know her within the past few months. She cannot say much, but her advice is priceless._ Again, his outline wavered, and this time, his voice faded slightly as well. _Look for the Secret of the Guardians,_ Harry said, his voice becoming a whisper. _The pendant you gave me…it ties in to that. Look for anything you can find regarding the pendant, Viatacatre, and the Guardians. Look for the key…_

Abruptly, the image disappeared, and Draco blinked. He was back beneath the tree, and Hermione was eyeing him with concern. He looked up at Sirena. "Is that it?" he asked desperately. She nodded sadly.

"I am sorry, young one. But to give a message that long takes energy. Your Inima is still weak after his death. He had very little energy to give. I had to supplement it with some of my own, though it is forbidden."

Draco sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Is there any advice you can give me?" he asked in a near whisper.

"At the moment, Harry has told you all you need to know. I am forbidden to say much more. I am already breaking my word to bring you this message." Sirena's eyes were apologetic. "I have certain limitations, and my lord will not be pleased if he hears about all I've told you."

"He said something about a key…and what's this about him being trapped?"

"Harry died before his time. He does not belong in the Land of the Dead. You can bring him back…but he cannot come back on his own. He needs you to help him. As for the key, it is the key to the Land of the Dead. Something that will unlock the world to the living, so that one soul may enter. If that soul manages to convince Death to relinquish his hold on their Inima, then they may return with that soul. If not, they must return on their own, alone."

"So I can go down there, and come back, no matter what?"

"No matter what. With or without Harry."

"I'll be coming back with him," Draco said firmly. "Where can I start?"

"I suggest you start with as much information as you can find regarding the Viatacatre. It will not be easy. Information on that race is limited, and highly guarded. Perhaps, however, Harry inherited some vaults at Gringott's?"

Draco nodded. Sirena continued. "You, being his husband, are now privileged to share those vaults, especially now that he has passed. The blood of the Viatacatre is from his father's side, so use that knowledge to help you. I must go, Draco Malfoy. My time grows short, and I need to return to my duties before I am missed. If you ever need me, just reach with your mind, and call for me. I will come if I can."

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Sirena was beginning to shimmer. Slowly, her form wavered, and she burst into the white smoke she had arrived in. The smoke swirled around in the air for a moment, before being sucked back into the heart of his ring, as if into a vacuum. Everything went back to the way it had been before.

For a moment, neither he nor Hermione moved.

Then she spoke. "So what now?" Draco glanced at her. "What did Harry tell you?"

"There's a way to get him back," he said dazedly, stunned by the realization. "I can get him back…he can come back to life…"

Hermione's eyes brightened. "How?" she asked, excited.

Draco didn't answer her question in the way she'd expected. Instead, he stood up, brushing grass from his clothes and hands, before helping her up. "Hermione," he said steadfastly. "We have some books to search, and a vault to find."


	2. Chapter 2: A Legacy Lost

It was a beautiful Saturday. Everything was peaceful…well, almost everything. Muffled shouting could be heard from behind a wooden door, emanating from within the private office of one Gringotts goblin. A few passing goblins directing a few wizards to their own offices paused for a moment, as if in silent debate over whether or not they should interfere with the heavy discussion within. After a moment, they passed on, grabbing the attention of their bewildered clients.

"What do you mean you can't open it without the key?" Draco spat, slamming his palm on the desk. Griplock, the goblin sitting in front of him, didn't flinch.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter. I realize that with your husband's recent death, things are a bit chaotic for you, and you are bound to be a bit stressed. But shouting at me because of a technicality is no way to go about doing things."

"A technicality? You are refusing me entrance to my husband's vaults, which I gained access to the moment I married him. I told you, I need to get into those vaults. It's a matter of life and death!"

Griplock eyed him. "You never mentioned that…pray tell, what do you seek from the vaults?"

Draco hesitated. "How can I be sure I can trust you?" he asked, his eyes narrowed. He wished he had Hermione with him right now. She would know how to use her words to get what she wanted. But she had been asked to stay behind, outside of the office, with Blaise and Pansy.

"I am sworn by Unbreakable Oath to protect the confidentiality of my clients."

Draco glared at the goblin for a moment, before sighing and settling back into his chair heavily. "You cannot breathe a word of anything I am about to tell you," he warned, unnecessarily. "This is rather…delicate information."

"Agreed, Mr. Potter."

"What do you know of the Viatacatre?"

For a moment, everything was silent. Griplock leaned back in his chair, rubbing his pointy chin in thought. "Nothing more than the average wizard…why?"

"Harry was a Viatacatre…I have received information, stating that because he is a Viatacatre, and because he died before his time, there is a chance of bringing him back from the dead." Draco studied the goblin's face, but the stony silence gave away nothing. "However, the way to go about doing so is unknown to me, and my informer was unable to tell what they knew. The only thing they could tell me was that I had to access Harry's father's vaults, and search for…something. I can't tell you what it is, exactly, first, because I don't know, and second, because such a highly guarded secret is not to be shared lightly." Draco leaned forward, trying not to seem desperate, but also trying to convince the goblin. "Please…this may be the only chance I have at getting my Inima back…you have to help me…will you let me into the vaults?"

The goblin was silent for a long time, so long Draco felt he might have fallen asleep, if it weren't for the occasional, slow blink. "I told you before, Mr. Potter, I am not allowed to open vaults without the proper key." Draco's heart sank. But his eyes widened with Griplock's next words. "However, we rarely deal with Inima, and even less so with the Viatacatre. I am going to run a few tests on you, and perhaps even use Veritaserum to validate your claims. But if you are telling the truth…I supposed the rules may be bent, just this once. I will grant you access to the vaults. There is a secret for opening any vault without a key."

Draco let out a relieved puff of air. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "You have no idea what this means to me."

Griplock nodded slightly. "You are welcome, Mr. Potter. I wish you luck in finding a way to bring your Inima back. The Wizarding world needs its hero…and you need your husband."

"He believed me." Hermione and Pansy's eyes lit up at Draco's words, and they beamed, hugging each other happily, while the quieter Blaise smiled slightly, clapping Draco's shoulder with his hand.

"Well, let's get searching then," he suggested. Griplock approached, beckoning with a finger.

"Come, Mr. Potter, and bring your friends."

Draco grinned at Blaise, following the goblin. The girls trailed behind, whispering in excitement. "We might be able to bring Harry back," Pansy whispered, her eyes shining. "Can you believe it?"

"I hope this works," Hermione replied, equally as quiet. "We have to find the key first."

As they disappeared into the tunnels, not one of them looked back. Not one of them noticed the dark figure turning away, and leaving Gringotts.

•••

A long, agonizing creak filled the air, as Griplock opened the massive vault door. "The vaults are connected by a door between each," he explained. "They are locked, so you must use this key to enter." Draco took the key from the goblin's outstretched hand, nodding in gratitude. "I will leave you to your search then. You can lock the door when you leave, by cutting your finger on the dragon's tooth. Your blood will key the vault in to your connection with Mr. Potter, and will make it easier on you the next time you come here without a key." Amusement glimmered in Griplock's eyes as he turned to walk away. "There are goblins around with carts, when you want to return to the surface."

Draco watched him leave, before turning to enter the vaults. He nearly ran into Blaise, who had frozen in place. "What's wrong?" Draco asked, pushing past him. As his head turned around, he saw what had caused not only Blaise, but Pansy and Hermione to freeze as well.

Mountains of gold filled the room to the top. Chests, with papers or linens peeking out, lined the walls. Stacks of books were scattered throughout the room. Overall, it was the largest vault Draco had ever seen – even more so than the largest Malfoy vaults. "And he's got multiple of these?" he whispered. He felt overwhelmed at the sheer amount of wealth Harry had inherited. Hermione broke the trance.

"Harry isn't going to like this," she muttered. Draco glanced at her.

"Why?" he asked. Hermione shook her head.

"He grew up having very little…to suddenly inherit more than the wealthiest wizard? It's going to overwhelm him big time. He won't feel comfortable, knowing that he has so much, and others have so little." Draco frowned. He should have known that. How could he dare to claim Harry's affection, when he knew so little about his own Inima?

As if reading his thoughts, Hermione approached him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it," she said softly. "I grew up with him…you've only begun to get to know him for about a year and a half now. The time will come when you know every last detail about him, and even more so than I do. Trust me. Right now, you're doing marvelously, with what you already know." Draco sighed.

"I just feel like there's more to him that I don't know, nor am aware of, that I should know," he said quietly. "I feel like I'm failing him, each time I learn something I should have known."

"You aren't. Harry understands you, and he feels the same way sometimes." Draco met her gaze evenly.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said gratefully. "I see why Harry is so fond of you. You really know what to say, and when to say it." She blushed slightly, but nodded her head.

"Come on," Blaise called, from where he was inspecting a book. "We've got to find what we need. The sooner we find it, the sooner we get Harry back."

Draco breathed in deeply, let it out slowly. "Let's get started," he murmured.

•••

Two hours later, they hadn't even gotten halfway through the books, even after reading the bare minimum of each book. "If I never read another book again..." Blaise grumbled. Pansy swatted him.

"It's for Harry," she snapped.

"I know," Blaise retorted, equally as snappy. "But this is ridiculous. We haven't found one mention of the Viatacatre anywhere."

"You know how rare information on them is…"

"Guys!"

The two Slytherins turned, to see Hermione frowning in disapproval at them. "We can't afford to waste time arguing," she said gently, diffusing their tempers. "I know we're all tired, and all rather short-tempered right now. But please…let's just focus?"

Blaise and Pansy nodded, murmuring apologies to each other, before picking up the next two books.

Draco seemed to have missed the entire exchange, his eyes glued to the pages. "He's worse than I am," Hermione chuckled. "I don't get that concentrated, even before O.W.L.s."

Pansy smirked lightly. "And that's saying something." She ducked under the coin Hermione flicked at her.

"He misses Harry…it's not too surprising to see him this way," Blaise commented. Hermione's face darkened with sorrow.

"I know…I miss Harry too, but not like he does. I know how Draco feels."

"No you can't. Have you ever lost the person you loved?" Hermione turned her anguished eyes on Blaise disbelievingly. Pansy hit his arm. "Ow, what?"

"She lost Ron," Pansy whispered to him. Blaise's eyes widened.

"Merlin, Hermione…sorry. I didn't…I mean…"

"I know," Hermione whispered. "It's okay if you forgot. Neither of us had made a move anyways, so no one ever really knew."

"Still, that doesn't forgive what I just said…I'm so sorry."

"Blaise, it's alright. Really." Hermione gave him a shaky smile, before looking down at her book. "Just…keep reading."

Blaise looked down at his own book, a guilty expression on his features.

Suddenly, the mood was broken, as Draco suddenly let out a surprised shout. "Here!" he called, jabbing the page with his finger. "Something on the Viatacatre…"

He continued to read, his face growing more excited by the minute. "This explains a few of their legends," he explained after a moment. His eyes roamed the page once more, then he suddenly set down the book with a small thud, and ran to the pile of books by one wall. He began to dig through them, reading the titles and tossing a few aside.

"Here it is!" he crowed, holding out a book triumphantly. The others crowded around to read the title.

"_A Legacy Lost,_" Hermione read aloud. "_The untold story of a dying race_."

"The passage I was just reading referred to this book, one that only had three separate copies. One would always be passed down the line of the Heir, and the other two were entrusted to the Heir's Guardians, both of which have to be dead by now, meaning the other two copies were lost. Since Harry is the new Heir, or is directly descended from the Heir, the book had to be here." Draco's face bore an excitement it had never shown before. "This is the key! Well, I mean the key to figuring out how to get Harry back. Not _the_ key."

Hermione laughed. "Just read it!" she ordered good-naturedly. "And tell us what you find. We'll keep searching."

Several stories, myths, and legends later, Draco looked up, his finger saving his place. "Pansy, Blaise, Hermione," he said in a shocked and quiet voice, breaking the silence. "You aren't going to believe what I just read."


	3. Chapter 3: The Key to Death

They all crowded around Draco quickly, each vying for a good look at the page he was reading.

"I'll read it out loud," Draco exclaimed, attempting to avoid being squashed. "Just move back, will you?" Blaise smirked, while Pansy and Hermione sheepishly sat back. "That's better." Draco looked down at the page again, and cleared his throat.

"'The Viatacatre,'" he read. "'Creatures of magic that reigned supreme over other magical creatures for centuries, the Viatacatre were well-known as creatures of beauty, dignity, honesty, humility, wisdom, and beings to be respected. They were masters of Persuasion, wandless and nonverbal magic, and were protected by all creatures of magic. When the ruthless Morgana sought to eradicate the Viatacatre, creatures everywhere rose up against her, seeking to protect the dying race. Their pain and anger was great, for Morgana, being of creature blood herself, was committing the ultimate betrayal.'"

"What does this have to do with anything?" Blaise interrupted. Draco shot him a look.

"Wait," he snapped. "'It was then that it was discovered the hold that the Viatacatre had over Death himself. They were unable to raise the dead as more than Inferi, but they could communicate with their dead Inimae, and rarely, very rarely, could travel into the Land of the Dead, to retrieve their Inimae from Death's grasp, if they had the proper pieces of the puzzle. This ability often was transferred into their mates as well, during their bonding.'"

"Does it say what those pieces are?" Hermione demanded, her eyes shining.

Pansy glanced at Blaise, confused. "Is this about that key that what's-her-face was talking about?" she asked hesitantly. Draco's head snapped up.

"The key!" he exclaimed. "That's it!"

"You know what it is?"

His face fell slightly. "Well, no…but maybe this passage has something on it. I didn't read much further. I guess I just got overexcited. All I saw was the part about Harry being able to talk to me…and my dreams. It must be me communicating with him…I just can't ever remember what he's really saying. There are several footnotes in here that I'd read, and it says that many of the Viatacatre had to undergo extensive training, to truly unlock their potential. I must have received the ability to communicate with Harry when our minds connected as well. But since I've had no training, I can only remember certain things."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Makes sense," she mused. "Keep reading…what are the pieces of the puzzle?"

Draco looked down. "Well, for one, it says that the two must have undergone some sort of bonding."

"Which you did…"

"But the whole ceremony hadn't been completed."

Hermione looked confused. "What do you mean?" Draco's cheeks were faintly tinged pink, causing Hermione's mouth to form an 'Oh' shape. "Gotcha…" Now her own cheeks were pink as well. Pansy seemed equally as uncomfortable, while Blaise just looked between them.

"I don't get it."

"Don't worry about it," Draco muttered, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Well, you two did at least complete the part where you two were declared as Inimae. Therefore, some sort of bonding was set in place. I'm sure that's enough. Keep going," Hermione instructed.

"Secondly, the two must have Bonding rings, which we do, and one of the partners must have his own Guardian." Draco looked up, frowning. "Guardian? Neither of us has one of those."

Pansy spoke up. "Don't you, Draco? Isn't that something you would have inherited?" Draco shook his head.

"No, a Guardian only protects the one they were set to guard. Guardians of an Heir are rare. And I don't think Harry had visited his vaults to see if he had inherited one from his Viatacatre bloodlines."

"What about that pendant you gave him?" Hermione asked quietly. Everyone turned to look at her. "Didn't Harry say that the serpent spoke to him in his mind, where we couldn't hear? Didn't it say that it wasn't needed at the time?"

Draco's eyes widened. "You don't think…no, that couldn't have been a Guardian…it had to have had a previous owner!"

"Maybe the previous owner didn't know what it was. Maybe you need to be a Parseltongue to connect with it. Harry connected with it. It didn't kill him. Therefore…maybe the serpent is his Guardian."

"Well, the last encounter Harry had with Guardians, they let him into their master's things. It could just be the whole 'magical creatures protecting him' thing."

"No, that was different. Remember, Harry said the serpent said he would know when the time is right…"

"And Harry's not here to tell us that."

"Because maybe he doesn't know." Hermione's eyes were serious. "Draco, I'm certain that the pendant you gave him, the serpent on that pendant…it's a Guardian. It's _Harry's_ Guardian. I'm sure of it."

Draco sighed. "For Harry's sake, I hope you're right," he murmured. "Because we need that, to bring Harry back."

"Alright. What's the next part?"

"The key." Draco looked over at Pansy and Blaise, who nodded in understanding. "It says that the Guardian can open the portal from either side of life, but that you need the key to be able to enter Death's realm, without being torn to pieces." He grimaced. "Great, so we have to be absolutely sure we have the right key, otherwise I die a painful and violent death. At least I'll be with Harry…"

Pansy smacked him. "Stop that," she scolded. "You'll get him back. Here. To the living."

Draco rubbed the side of his head, glaring at her. "Alright, ow. Didn't need to hit me," he muttered.

"The key…is it a literal key, or a concept?" Draco again turned to look at Hermione.

"How should I know?" he asked. Hermione huffed in annoyance.

"Well, I don't know. You're his Inima, I thought you would, I don't know, feel something. Don't you?"

"No! I have no bloody idea what the key is! If I did, I'd already be on my way to opening the portal," Draco growled. Blaise and Pansy glanced at each other with small sighs.

"Now you two are like us," Pansy warned. "Stop arguing. This isn't helping Harry." Draco rubbed his face tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

"Merlin, I want him back," he said softly, the grief evident in his voice. "I love him so much…it's unbearable. If we can't figure out the key, then I want to die. Just so I can be with him…I love him enough for that."

"That's it!"

Draco's eyes snapped open. "What?" he asked suspiciously. Hermione's face was shining.

"It's love."

"What?"

"The key is love!"

Draco shook his head. "And tell me, oh wise one, how did you arrive at that conclusion?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "It's simple. The Viatacatre created the Inimae out of love, right?" Nods from all three. "And it's because of love that a Inima can join their mate in death, right?" Again, nods. "And it's because of love that an Inima can bring their mate back from the dead. Therefore, the key, for an Inima to open the portal between life and death…is love."

Everyone was silent.

Hermione looked around nervously. "It makes sense, right?" she asked hesitantly. Suddenly, all breath was driven from her body, as Draco grabbed her into a crushing hug. "Draco?"

"Thank you," was all he could say, before his body wracked with silent sobs. Hermione awkwardly patted his back, trying to be soothing while suffocating in his grasp.

"Draco…can't…breathe…"

"Hm?" Realization dawned on him, and Draco released her quickly, tears beginning to form in his eyes. "This can bring Harry back," he rasped, blinking hard. "Thank you. I couldn't have done it without you…without any of you." He gave a grateful smile to Pansy and Blaise as well. Blaise cleared his throat, patting Draco's shoulder.

"Don't thank us yet, mate. Thank us after we figure out how to communicate with Harry's Guardian, to get it to open the portal."

Draco glanced at Hermione with a grin. "Time to call on Sirena," he laughed.


	4. Chapter 4: Living Horrors

**A/N:** This is an eerier chapter than previous chapters, but keep in mind: 1) Draco has had a dark past, and so has creepier things to pull a nightmare from and 2) it is a night terror. It's meant to be horrifying. So, I am warning you now: there is a nightmare of graphic nature. Do not read if you visualize things, and have nightmares based on what you read. :P

* * *

Problem: how does one go about calling the Siren of Death?

Solution?

He had no idea.

Draco was flopped on his bed in the boys' dormitories. Every so often, a gentle (or not so gentle) snore would erupt from one the beds hidden by darkness. He sighed softly, staring at the darkness, knowing the ceiling was up there somewhere. With a rustle of bed sheets, he rolled over, sinking further into the mattress.

After having solved the mystery behind the key to Death, he and the others had spent the rest of the afternoon searching for any other helpful advice from the books in James Potter's vault. But there hadn't been much, just a bunch of misleading or vague hints at deeper secrets, secrets they needed Harry to help unlock.

Sure, it had been interesting, and a bit fruitful, as they now knew how to get to Death. Well, sort of. Again, Draco sighed. Learning about a rare creature, and learning as much history as they did was a nice change from the boring History of Magic class that he was still required to take, but it didn't bring them any closer than they already were.

All they needed was Sirena's help now. But neither Hermione nor the others had any idea how to call her, and he was stumped as well.

Does one simply call her name, and hope she hears them? Or is there some sort of incantation? Maybe one needs to be an Inima…they hadn't had time to call her yet, as there was no use in opening the gate to Death if he wasn't ready to go yet. He didn't want to get there, and not be able to bring Harry back because he hadn't had enough information, and once down in the Land of the Dead, he couldn't exactly ask Hermione for help.

Staying up all night wouldn't help.

But he couldn't sleep. A part of him couldn't, because Harry was still dead, and that grief was overwhelming, especially when he was left to his own thoughts. A small whimper escaped his lips, and though Draco felt ashamed at his weakness, he knew that he would rather miss Harry, than be completely emotionless. That was when he would be at his lowest.

And there was the part of him that couldn't wait to sleep, because then he could see Harry, and hear his voice. But after the dream came the nightmare. Or maybe before. Whichever order, it was a love-hate relationship he felt towards sleep. Both ways resulted in him jerking awake, breathing heavily and crying out for Harry, knowing he was gone. Hence the Silencing Charm he knew the other boys had thrown up. Blaise left his down, however, wanting to be there for Draco when he could, and for that, Draco was immensely grateful.

Slowly, his thoughts dulled, and his eyelids drooped, and he slipped into a quiet slumber.

•••

_Draco…_

_He looked around, hearing Harry's voice. Draco's eyes lit up, as he beheld the dimly lit figure, growing brighter as he approached._

_I miss you, Draco…_

_I miss you too, Harry, he wanted to say. But as always, he was forced to be silent. Still, Harry seemed to understand the unspoken._

_I know you've been searching for a way, Harry whispered. Thank you. It's so lonely down here…Sirena isn't allowed to speak with me very often anymore. I think Death suspects contact between us…he doesn't want to let me go, Draco…he says I belong to him._

_Fear struck Draco, and he could see it reflected in Harry's eyes._

_He says that you will never be able to bring me back…that it's impossible. I don't want to stay here, Draco…I want to live…I want to be with you. Our time together was too short…I know you can rescue me. You've always been stubborn that way…please, Draco…don't let me down…save me…_

_Draco tried to reach out, and found, to his surprise, that he was no longer frozen, like he always was. With glee, he reached out and attempted to take Harry's hand in his. To his horror, his hand melted right through Harry's, and Harry's figure began to waver and fade, dissolving into a fine mist._

_Noooo! his mind cried._

_I love you…_

_Harry's voice taunted him, echoing and growing louder._

_I love you…love you always…forever…_

_And suddenly, his dream changed, melding dream and memory._

_"And we will live happily together." Harry's eyes were shining, and Draco watched himself holding on to Harry's shoulder. It was odd, as always, to see himself, without actually being _in_ himself._

_"Forever after?" Harry asked._

_The other Draco smiled wryly. "I always did like fairytale endings…"_

_Harry opened his mouth to speak, right as a dark voice spoke. "Avada Kedavra!"_

_Draco watched, helpless to do anything, as the flash of green struck Harry. But Harry did not fall, as expected. Instead, he gave the other Draco a smile. "It's okay, Draco," he laughed. "I'm fine. Nothing can hurt me…I can't die…see?"_

_With a strange, maniacal laugh, he produced a knife, and began to slice the skin on his arms. Blood welled from the cuts, and began to drip, forming a crimson pool beneath his feet. "See, Draco? See? It doesn't hurt me…I don't feel it…I can't die…"_

_Another slash, another cut._

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_Another flash of green._

_And all the while, Harry's chilling laughter filled his ears._

_"I can't die…"_

_"Forever after…"_

_"Fairytale ending…"_

_"Together."_

_Suddenly, Harry stopped cutting his skin, and he gave another eerie smile. "Only I can do this," he chortled. "It has to be me…I can't die, unless I am the one to do it." The second Draco had faded by now, and dream-Harry stared directly into Draco's eyes. "I'm sorry…" The maniacal laughter increased, and his ears were ringing, as with an unearthly screech, dream-Harry plunged the knife into his own chest. He fell to one knee, then struggled to his feet, knife still embedded in his chest. With bloodstained hands, he reached out to Draco._

_"I love you, Draco…we'll be together forever…I will never leave you…" he murmured, lurching closer and closer. Horrified, Draco tried to turn and run, not liking the crazed look in the brilliant green eyes, eyes that now gleamed with a feral light. But his feet were frozen for now._

_Blood began to run from the corner of his mouth, and his cheeks were stained with bloody tears streaming from his eyes. The laughter grew even louder, and a gurgling sound emanated from dream-Harry._

_"Forever after…"_

_Dream-Harry suddenly lunged, ripping the knife from his chest and holding it above his head. "Say you love me!" he screeched. "Why do you leave me here? You don't love me! You don't want me back!"_

_I do, I do! Draco tried to scream._

_"You never loved me!" The shriek pierced his heart, and he stumbled in place, finding he was able to run now. With a cry of terror, Draco turned, and ran, trying to get away from the horrific, zombie-like Harry._

_"You should have protected me! You should have stopped me! You let me die!"_

_No! I didn't want…_

_"This is your fault!"_

_Harry suddenly appeared in front of Draco, and it was too late for him to stop. The bloody knife glittered in the strange sunlight, before flashing down. Fire washed across his vision, before everything went dark._

_The voice echoed in his head._

_This was your fault…_

With a cry, Draco jerked to awareness. Broken sobs were torn from his throat, and Draco wrapped his arms around himself, rocking back and forth slightly. "H-Harry," he moaned, a hiccup causing his body to tremble. "I'm sorry…it's my fault," he whimpered.

"Draco? You okay?"

His grey eyes stared ahead, sightless, as Blaise poked his head out of his curtained bed area. Seeing Draco shaking uncontrollably, he rolled out, and approached his friend, sitting beside him. After a slight hesitation, he pulled Draco into a hug, trying to draw him out of the fear-filled stupor.

"He's gone…" Draco whispered after a while.

"I know. We all miss him."

"It's my fault."

"No, Draco." Blaise squeezed him tighter. "It was Harry's choice, remember? You couldn't have stopped him. You know how he was. Harry was a Gryffindor; stubborn and reckless. You could do nothing."

"Exactly. I did nothing. I should have stopped him…"

"And done what?" Draco looked up, his eyes and cheeks shining with moisture. "If Harry hadn't done what he did, Voldemort would slowly have taken over his mind, and you would have lost him in a much worse way. Would you want that for Harry? His losing his mind?"

Draco shook his head. "I just feel like…"

"I know."

Wordlessly, Draco pushed Blaise's arms off him. "Thank you," he whispered hollowly. "But I want to be alone."

Blaise's eyes were solemn, as he nodded, before standing and returning to his bed. He didn't need to see Draco's face, to know that the blonde was crying once more. The even breathing gave nothing away, as he lay down once more, knowing by the slight shaking of Draco's shoulders that the young man was letting his grief out, in the only way he knew how: with no one watching, with no one hearing or seeing. Silently.

•••

Hermione eyed the oddly quiet Draco, sensing that it had been a rough night for him. A glance at Blaise confirmed her suspicions, when he nodded in response to her questioning look.

She hid her sympathy, instead calmly beginning to present her findings. "Since she appeared from Draco's ring last time," she whispered, glancing around to see if Snape was watching, "the way to summon her must be through his ring. Have you tried twisting it around while saying her name? Maybe that will summon her…"

"And maybe if I rub a golden lamp, a genie will appear, and I can make it all better," Draco hissed. Snape cleared his throat warningly, and they all looked up to see the Potions professor looking their way. Once his gaze had passed on, Hermione gave Draco a withering glare.

"Forgive me for trying to help," she snapped. Draco felt bad, and sighed.

"Sorry, Hermione. I just…I don't know what's wrong with me anymore," he murmured.

She shrugged, letting him know she forgave him. "I know what you mean," Pansy muttered, joining the conversation. "I don't want to do anything but help you get Harry back…anything else, and I snap!"

"Is the workload not sufficient for you four?" They all looked up again, as Snape glared down at him. "I would expect you four to remain silent, not keep whispering and conniving amongst yourselves. You four are better than that. Please. Focus on the work assigned, or I'll assign more."

Draco wouldn't meet his gaze, giving Severus a pang of worry. The dull look in his godson's eyes…It reminded him of the dull look in Harry's eyes…when Draco had been captured by Voldemort. "Mr. Malfoy, see me after class," he demanded, walking back to his desk in a flurry of black robes.

Draco nodded once, his gaze not leaving his parchment. Hermione looked up at Severus, and though he held no fondness for the Gryffindor bookworm, he did understand the concern and pleading in her gaze, and he inclined his chin slightly, eliciting a relieved look from the girl.

He would sort this out.


	5. Chapter 5: Summoning the Siren

"What's bothering you?"

Draco didn't look up, instead watching his finger trace invisible patterns on the table in front of him. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly.

Severus crossed his arms. "Do not play dumb with me, Draco. I am not an idiot; do not treat me like one. I know something is bothering you. What is it?"

"Other than the fact that my Inima, my husband, is dead?" Draco snarled. Severus was taken aback by the sudden venom in his godson's voice.

"I will not tolerate that tone, young man," he said warningly.

"You are not my father, so don't order me around."

"I am your Professor, and you will treat me with respect," Severus snapped. "Now, stop trying to draw me away from the issue at hand: what is your problem?"

Draco glowered at him, before his angry expression fell, leaving behind a tired and mournful expression. It nearly broke Severus' heart, to see the utter despair and loneliness on Draco's face.

"I miss him," Draco whispered, so quiet Severus could barely hear him. "I miss him so much...and I'm so close to figuring out how to get him back."

This was news to Severus. "Get him back?"

Quickly, Draco explained about Sirena, the dreams from Harry (leaving out the horrific nightmares he had), and the news he had learned about being able to bring Harry back. "And now we think we've found the key to Death, the one that allows me to enter the Land of the Dead, and try to retrieve Harry," he finished.

"And what makes you so sure Death will give him up, and let you return?"

"Well, it is guaranteed that I can return. I don't know why that is, but I have no doubts on getting back. Even Death has boundaries. As for getting Death to give up Harry..." A determined look came over his face. "I am not giving up. I will get Harry back."

And he probably would, Severus noted. Even if Draco were running off sheer willpower, it would be enough to overthrow Death, hands down. It had to be.

"So what's keeping you from going down there now, if you know the key?"

Draco sighed. "That's the problem. We can't open the portal without Harry's Guardian."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "He had a Guardian?"

"I gave him one unknowingly, for his birthday." A nod from his godfather. Draco again felt the utter hopelessness well up in him. "But we can't communicate with his Guardian...we don't know how to. So, we're going to see if Sirena knows. But we don't know how to summon her." He anxiously twisted his ring in place. "Hermione thought that maybe I should twist the ring a certain way, and say Sirena's name at the same time...I thought it was pretty stupid."

"No idea is stupid, if there is a possibility it might work," Severus drawled. "It is actually a rather astute guess. I have heard of Summoning charms, and they do involve certain rituals, such as twisting a ring. I may have something for you that might help..."

Excitement flared in Draco's eyes, and Severus felt relief. That was better than the dull sorrow and pain of before. With footsteps that echoed in the empty classroom, he made his way to a bookshelf, removing a small glamour charm from a dusty book high up in the corner. He blew off the outer layer of dust, eliciting a sneeze from the now-too-close Draco, who was pressing in, unable to contain his hope and anticipation. "Relax...I'll write you a pass, so don't worry about being late," Severus said dryly. Draco just huffed, waving his hand to hurry his godfather along.

Severus opened the tome, scanning the table of contents swiftly. "Ah, here we are," he murmured. "Summoning of the Dead, Summoning of Death, Summoning of Spirits of the Dead, Summoning of the Siren of Death...all in one chapter, conveniently." He flipped to the page, nodding in satisfaction. "Sirena, the Siren of Death, is an obscure figure, as she always has been throughout history. Her origin is unknown, as are her duties outside of the obvious. A capricious character, she is known for making a rare appearance in special, unique, or important events. It is unknown whether she often has emotions regarding her charges." He looked up. "Have you ever heard the legend of Sirena?" Draco shook his head.

"I just learned about her recently," he said, shrugging.

"I'll let you borrow this book, but you must return it soon. But read the legend...it might explain why Sirena took such an interest in you and your Inima's welfare. It is very rare for her to make an appearance, and she won't do so for just anyone. Anyways, here's the incantation, as well as what you must do." Draco eagerly accepted the book, as students began to file into the classroom. Severus recast a glamour over it, so that only Draco, Pansy, Blaise, and Hermione would be able to read the true book. To everyone else, it was just an old potions book.

"Do what you must, Draco," he said quietly. "I will talk to Dumbledore, and ensure that your absence isn't out of the ordinary. But Draco..." For a moment, fear flitted through the emotionless eyes of the Potions Master. "Be careful."

With that, he sent Draco on his way, a note to Professor Flitwick to excuse Draco's tardiness.

•••

"_The Legend of Sirena_." Draco looked up apprehensively, locking gazes with Pansy, Blaise, and Hermione. "Severus said it was interesting, and might help me understand why Sirena is helping Harry and I."

Hermione nodded. "It's a sad story," she sighed. "I don't remember everything in it though...I read the legend a long time ago, during second year."

Figured. Draco suppressed a smirk, his lips twitching slightly. To distract himself from his amusement, he began to read.

"'_Long ago, beyond what memory can recall perfectly, the Siren of Death was born. Born from sorrow, loss, pain, grief, and every cold, mournful emotion associated with Death, she was doomed to forever guide souls from the World of the Living, to the Land of Death._

'_Yet, she was not always such a pitiful creature._

'_Before she was Death's cold arms, she was everything vivid and beautiful in life. Elena was her name, and she had every blessing life could give her. She treasured everything in life, but treasured one thing above all else: her lover._

'_Handsome, he was, a man for every female to dream about. And he was hers. He loved her, and she loved him. They would go to the ends of the earth for each other, it was said. Nothing could separate them. Nothing...except for Death._

'_Seeing their happiness, and the happiness they spread, Death grew envious. Why should he, who looked after the souls of the dead, be left to wallow in misery and loneliness, while this man lived in happiness with such a beautiful woman, who returned his love? Death longed to share a love with another._

'_And so, Death reached into life. He caused a tragic accident to befall Elena's lover, bringing him to the Land of the Dead. If he could not be happy, then neither could Elena or her lover._

'_Understandably, Elena was heartbroken, to the point of wishing for death. It was not fair for her lover to have been taken from life so suddenly. She had an idea. She would go to Death, and bargain for her lover's life, offering her own instead, so that he might have another chance at happiness, though it cost her everything. And so she went._

'_This was an unforeseen result, and Death was pleased by this turn of events. Selfishly, he saw a way to have Elena for himself, knowing that her lover could easily learn to love another. He accepted Elena's offer of her life for her lover's, creating a contract, binding her soul to his. Death saw it as a gain for her; she gained immortality and even greater beauty, in exchange for a small service._

'_Her lover was returned to life, while Elena was left behind in the Land of the Dead. Her heart slowly broke, as she watched him begin to get over her, and fall for another woman, and when they finally started a family together, she was crushed, though she knew she would rather have him living happily, than peacefully dead._

'_Death saw her sorrow, and he saw her slowly grow paler than death, as she pined away for her lover. He felt remorse, knowing that he could have chosen to release them both. But the deed was done. He attempted to show her love, but it was a mockery of the tender devotion she had once known, and she rejected his attempts at wooing her. Angered, Death left her to her own devices, only appearing every so often to make sure she had kept up with her duties._

'_Slowly, the woman that was Elena faded, giving way to the cold, yet beautiful Sirena, Siren of Death. She went about her duties in a detached manner, guiding lost souls to the Land of the Dead, and acting as mediator for Death. But every once in a while, she goes beyond her duties to help a particular person, and that is when she makes her appearance. While Death may not be pleased by her actions, he has not yet attempted to stop her, at least in any manner that the living might know._

'_It is said that those she helps are different. Perhaps they have a family in need of help, or have lost a beloved child. Even rarer are her appearances to lovers. But when she does make an appearance, it is because of the love she lost..._'" Draco's voice trailed off. His eyes were glossy with unshed tears. "It says that she only helps those who have a love like no other," he whispered. A small smile spread across his face.

"You and Harry have something special," Pansy agreed. "I mean, you and Harry Potter. Who would have ever thought that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, the two biggest rivals, would become Inima, and marry each other?"

"I never imagined it," Blaise chuckled. "And yet...I'm glad it happened. Funny thing, Fate. Very finicky. And very unpredictable."

Draco was staring down at the book. "It's a sad tale," he murmured. "To lose the one you loved most..." He could understand her pain. Merlin knew he would have given himself up for Harry without batting an eye. His eyes hardened. "Death won't win this time...he can't keep Harry. I will get Harry back."

"That's the spirit," Hermione said cheerfully.

•••

True to his word, Severus arranged things so that Draco's classes had been cancelled for the rest of the week, giving him five days to travel to the Land of the Dead and back. Five days might or might not be enough. Draco wasn't sure how time moved down there, and he hadn't found any information on the topic. Hopefully he'd be back before anyone noticed.

Well, first he had to open the portal. Then he could think about getting back.

Draco took a deep, shaky breath, glancing around at his friends. "I don't know if this will work," he complained, feeling hopeless. Blaise shrugged.

"Only one way to find out, mate."

With a slow nod, Draco began to pace back and forth in front of the wall in front of them. When a door appeared, he took another deep breath, and entered the Room of Requirement.

Once the door was shut behind them, the others turned to Draco expectantly. He opened the book he'd been carrying, and began to silently read the incantation there, making sure he'd say it right. Finally, he set the book down, and stepped towards the middle of the room.

"Hai, sirene de moarte. Am nevoie de ajutorul dumneavoastra." He twisted his ring clockwise once, before repeating the incantation. This time, he moved his ring counterclockwise. Again, the incantation. As a slight wind began to pick up, strange considering they were in an enclosed room, he twisted his ring clockwise once more. Suddenly, his ring began to heat up, as it had the first time Sirena had appeared. Draco hissed in pain, feeling the burning pain increase, as the thin white smoke trailed from the heart of the ring. The pain abated, as Sirena's form solidified.

"Who calls me?" Her voice was different, yet familiar. There was a wilder undertone in her voice, and the sensation that multiple voices had joined hers was stronger. Though no wind blew now, her hair still coiled about her face as if alive, in an inviting manner.

Draco eyed her. Did she not remember him? "I, Draco Potter, have summoned you," he said warily, backing away slightly.

Sudden recognition flared in the piercing blue eyes, and Sirena smiled. Her voice returned to the sweet, soft tones of their first meeting, as she greeted him. "So, you have learned how to call upon me," she commented. "I am glad. Tell me, Draco Potter, heir of the Malfoy clan, what aid do you seek from me?"

He let out a breath of relief. She knew him. "I've figured everything out," he said quietly. Sirena's face grew solemn, and her gaze became guarded. "I just need Harry's Guardian. I can't open the portal without Harry's Guardian."

"And you know what and where his Guardian is?"

"It's the pendant I gave him for his birthday," Draco answered. "The snake on it spoke in Harry's mind."

"And it told you it was his Guardian?"

"Well...no...but it said it was not needed, and that Harry would know when that was."

A pleased expression stole over her features. "You have passed," she murmured quietly, so quiet he could barely hear her. "I do believe you will succeed." Raising her voice, Sirena locked gazes with each of them, for a few seconds at a time. "I will provide the way for you to open the portal. Harry's Guardian will not be needed. I will grant you this, as a reward for your cleverness at solving everything needed." She turned to Draco. "When shall I open the portal for you?"

Draco looked at Hermione, who nodded with a small smile on her lips. He straightened. "Now."

Sirena murmured, "So be it," and raised her hand.


	6. Chapter 6: Regaining Love Lost

She spoke words that were of no language that he recognized. Her voice seemed to grow colder, and Draco and the others shivered, suddenly feeling chilled. _It's the language of Death,_ he realized. Her hand seemed ordinary for a few moments, then the air around it began to warp. Draco was reminded of heat waves that could be seen radiating off hot stone in the sunlight, the air quivering slightly.

The temperature of the room began to drop rapidly, and everyone, save Sirena herself, shivered once more. A cold, blue light formed in front of them all, and Draco took a step backwards, as an icy gust of wind rushed out from its center. There was a cracking sound, like ice breaking.

"The portal is opened," said Sirena, her expression stony.

Draco looked at her apprehensively, then looked back at Hermione, who gave him an encouraging nod. He hesitated, and both Pansy and Hermione rushed forward.

"You'll be okay," Pansy said softly, while Hermione nodded.

"Bring Harry back, okay?" she whispered. "We all need him back. I know you can do it." Draco met her gaze evenly.

"I'm not leaving without him," he quietly said. Their gazes said it all; Hermione knew that if Harry were not able to come back, then Draco would stay with him.

"Goodbye," she said, as a preliminary caution. "Take care."

Blaise clapped Draco on the shoulder. "Be careful, mate," was all he said, before he nodded. "I don't want to lose my best mate, so make sure to kick arse, and bring Harry with you."

Draco smirked. "Death stands no chance," he said lightly, before turning towards the portal. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through it, his love for Harry washing over him. The pain and grief he'd felt at Harry's death nearly overwhelmed him suddenly, and he felt as though the warm love he felt was being ignored, in light of the new misery and despair. But he held his chin high, and pressed on.

Passing through the portal was like passing through a bowl of jelly, he noted. Time seemed to slow, and though a multitude of cold, harsh lights flashed by, he kept a calm, clear head. Slowly, the Room of Requirement disappeared, along with his friends. Even Sirena was nowhere to be seen, though Draco could swear he saw her eyes peering out at him from amongst the lights. It comforted him, though he could not prove that she was watching and guiding him.

It was forever, and yet only a few seconds, when Draco finally stepped through. A wave of vertigo swept over him, and he closed his eyes, swaying. When he opened them, they widened.

This was a bleak, lifeless land. For miles, it seemed that there was nothing but a dull brownish-grey plain. The only recognizable object here seemed to be dirt and rocks. No one else was around.

_Alright, I can work with this._

Squaring his jaw, Draco took a step forward, knowing it was a wild guess. There was no guarantee it was the right direction. But by Merlin's beard, he was going to find Harry. Nothing was going to stop him.

Not even a hike through the Land of the Dead.

•••

He should have brought supplies, though he wasn't sure they would have made it through with him. Draco felt as though a giant piece of leather was in his mouth, though he knew it was just his tongue, dry and useless. There had been nothing to prepare him for this agony.

He stopped again for a short rest, regaining his breath. It had been three hours since he'd first started walking, and it had started to steadily grow warmer. Good sign? He wasn't sure.

_Can you walk straight into hell?_ Sure felt like it.

Draco began walking, once he was breathing normally. He had to keep moving, had to find Harry.

Another hour later, and there was still no sign of any life (or death?) anywhere, and it was warm to the point of discomfort. "Gotta find Harry," he kept muttering. Thoughts of Harry were the only things keeping him going now.

Without warning, there was a ripple in the air in front of him, and Sirena suddenly appeared. Unused to the abrupt appearance, Draco jumped, startled. "I've never been more glad to see a familiar face," he sighed. "Any help for me? A clue as to a direction?"

"Better," Sirena said. Her expression was oddly blank, detached. "I've got permission to take you straight to Death himself."

Death must be watching her, Draco realized. That was why she was so formal right now. "Thank you," he said quietly. Sirena didn't respond; she merely extended a hand in his direction. He took it without question. Her skin was icier than before, cold enough to be painful. Draco forced himself to hold tightly to her hand, and not recoil in pain.

Teleporting in the Land of the Dead was very similar to using a Portkey. He felt the tug behind his navel, and the dizzying speed of teleportation. He squeezed his eyes shut, as the desolate landscape faded, replacing itself with an outside view of the same landscape, but with a dark, ominous castle in front of them. Draco opened his eyes to see tall spires and turrets, in a Gothic-styled Hogwarts. Actually, the only semblance to Hogwarts was its stone walls, and castle-like feature. But the spires were sharp and wicked looking, and the spiked fringe along the top of the entrance gate looked dangerous and menacing. Even the door spoke of Death and evil. Draco gulped. Harry was in there, possibly. He _had_ to rescue him.

Without looking at Sirena, he began to walk towards the gates. He did not notice the approving smile on Sirena's face, nor the admiration in her eyes, as he stood looking up at the iron bars. Unbidden, the gates swung open.

"He is waiting for you," Sirena murmured eerily.

He was reminded of being brought before Voldemort. In fact, he was certain his Aunt Bellatrix had said something similar...

_"The Dark lord awaits you, Draco," she laughed, her cackle causing chills to run down his spine. Draco took an uncertain step into the room, and he heard a cold voice speak up._

_"Draco…so pleased you could join us…"_

_"M'lord," Draco mumbled, bowing low._

_"Good. You have taught him respect, Lucius. Well done." His father looked smug, though he remained respectful towards the Dark lord._

_"Thank you, Dark lord."_

_"Please, sit." Draco sat as bidden, his back and face stiff. "I have a job for you, young Draco," Voldemort began. "It is a very small task, though it might prove difficult in getting near enough for. I have received word that Harry Potter is more amicable towards you now. Is this correct?"_

_He would have to speak carefully. "Potter no longer seems to care about our enmity," he said coolly. Voldemort nodded._

_"Excellent…your mission, Draco, is to befriend Potter, and when he least expects it, to kill that redheaded friend of his. I want you to kill Ronald Weasley." Horror struck Draco, but he hid it well._

_"My lord, would it not be simpler to just have Draco kill the Potter kid? Or capture him? Once you have killed him, and are victorious, Draco will not need to hide or lay low." Draco wanted to slap a hand over his father's mouth. He held his breath unconsciously._

_"Potter is mine to kill," snarled Voldemort. "And to capture him is too large a task for Draco. He will not be able to succeed, and I will not have this bungled. No, kill the Weasley kid. I want to see Potter broken at the loss of his friend, so I might gloat over my victory, before finally finishing things off."_

_Draco kept his gaze low, as Voldemort sent everyone but his father and himself from the room. "We must talk about how this will be carried out to plan," the Dark lord said smoothly._

And from there, the memory became too horrific to remember. Draco remembered returning to Hogwarts, broken and defeated. He remembered how Harry had stopped him from throwing himself off the Astronomy tower. He remembered how that was the first night he'd realized how strong his bond was with Harry.

He had to get Harry back. He was lost without his Inima.

Draco steeled himself, and walked through the gates, and up through the now-open front doors. A long, ornate hallway greeted his eyes, and a cold breeze rushed past. A grand staircase led to another set of double doors, while separate hallways ran parallel to this one. Draco, guided by the near-silent Sirena, headed for the staircase, quickly ascending. Again, the doors opened, to reveal the coldest, most bone-chilling sight yet.

It was a throne room. Tall pillars held the high ceiling at a point, and his footsteps echoed, as each foot struck the black stone beneath. In the center of the room was an angular, black marble throne. It was the figure upon this throne that was least expected.

It was a man. Or rather, Death was a man. Man-like? Draco studied him coolly. Death was young, for such an old, timeless being. Dark shoulder-length hair flowed over the black-clad chest, and though his light dusting of a beard was tinged with silver, there were very few wrinkles in his face. He wore a cold expression, not quite a scowl, his mouth a hard line.

But it was his eyes that unnerved Draco. One eye was greyish silver, colder than Draco's own silvery eyes. Eyes that had seen many a tormented soul, eyes that had even beheld their host partaking in such torments, eyes that had seen far too many miseries and toils within their lifetime. One eye peered sharply at Draco, and he felt as though this eye pierced his soul, gazing into his thoughts and most intimate and private emotions, feelings and memories. The other eye was cloudy and glazed, like a blind eye; although Draco sensed that this was no sightless eye.

If his eyes hadn't struck horror and fear into Draco, Death's voice did.

"Draco Malfoy-Potter…so nice to see you."

Death's voice was cold, slithering, and _eerie_. His voice made Voldemort sound like a bubbly grandmother, or a beautiful opera singer. Draco suppressed a shiver. Death seemed amused by his reaction, as he continued to speak. There seemed to be no emotion in his words.

"I must admit, you have impressed me. To have come so far, amidst such struggle, only to be turned away fruitless? Pity."

Draco drew himself up, fear fleeing as anger replaced it. "What do you mean, only to be turned away?" he snarled.

Death now chuckled. "Ah, poor Draco. Finally, he begins to see that it simply was not meant to be…you know what I mean." Draco's eyes sparked with rage, as Death continued. "You won't be getting Harry back. I don't intend to ever give him up…not when such amusement is provided me."

"Where is he?"

"He's fine. Now go on-"

"Not without seeing Harry first." Draco's wand was out and pointed threateningly at Death, though he suspected it would do nothing if Death decided to become hostile.

But there was no hostility in the laughter that followed. Only condescending amusement.

"You amuse me, boy," Death cackled. "You dare threaten me within my realm, nay, within my own walls? You stand no chance against me, if I wanted to hurt you." With a flick of his finger, Death sent a gust of icy wind at Draco, freezing his wand hand to the point of Draco dropping his wand in order to move out of the biting wind.

"Accio wand," Draco hissed, retrieving his wand. He didn't raise it again, though his fingers clenched the wood, white-knuckled. "Show me Harry." His teeth were gritted in anger. Death looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment, before smiling. It was a creepy, feral smile, and Draco much preferred Voldemort's smile to his.

"Very well…I will show you your Inima…" He snapped, and from behind his throne came a scraping sound. Bile rose in Draco's throat, as a hideous creature appeared, dragging another figure with it. The creature was humanoid, but was grotesquely disproportionate to a normal human. In place of fingernails, claws extended from the hands, and blood-red eyes stood out against the paler than pale skin, while pitch black strands of hair hung around its face. Fangs jutted from its upper jaw.

Draco ignored the hideous creature, intent on its burden. "Harry!"

His Inima looked much the same. Paler, yes, and scrawnier, but it was still Harry. Harry's eyes, previously dull and hopeless, lit up with love and relief. Death snapped his fingers again, and some sort of Silencing charm was taken off, as Harry opened his mouth.

"I knew you'd come for me," were his first words.

Draco ran to take Harry into his arms. Surprisingly, Death did nothing to stop the reunion, actually waving away the wraith and falling silent, his strange eyes studying the couple. Death did not miss the wistful and sorrowful gleam in Sirena's eyes.

Holding Harry was…indescribable. Draco held onto Harry tightly, a tight lump in his throat rendering him unable to speak. He squeezed his eyes shut, as silent tears began to leak out.

Harry was affected much the same way, though he managed to choke out, "Missed you so much…" Draco's response was a tighter squeeze, before he held Harry at arm's length, simply wanting to look at him. Harry gently ran his fingers down the side of Draco's face, brushing away strands of hair.

"Your hair's longer," he murmured softly, before leaning forward and capturing Draco's lips with his own.

It was quite some time before they separated, with Draco's arms around Harry's thin waist. He looked at Sirena pleadingly, but she could only look away wordlessly. He then switched his gaze to rest on Death. "You've got to let me bring him back," Draco said quietly. "Please…"

Death raised an eyebrow. "Why? Why should I give up a soul that has already come to join me?"

Draco thought carefully about his answer. Harry's fate rested on his negotiations. "Because he came to you before his time," he said firmly. "If not for Harry's decision to sacrifice himself, he would not yet have joined you."

"How do you know?"

"Harry told me that's what he was told."

Death looked suspiciously at Sirena, who raised her chin defiantly. "I suspect he was told such information without permission," he said coldly. "Be that as that may…how do you know Harry wouldn't have died the following week? Those followers of that one self-proclaimed Dark lord…Death Beaters?"

"Death Eaters," Harry corrected. Death looked at him with a withering glare.

"Death Eaters. Pitiful name. Only a fool would call them that, for they have no claim to my power. As I was saying...How do you know a Death Eater wouldn't have poisoned Harry the following week?"

Draco had no answer. "I don't," he muttered.

"Exactly. You do not hold my position. Perhaps things would be better if Harry remained here," Death said smugly. Draco wanted to hex the smirk off the man…thing.

"I don't care. Things would not be better," he said stubbornly. "I'd rather spend one more day with Harry…it would be more time with the only person I've ever loved."

Death leaned back in his throne, resting his chin on one tightly curled fist. "I've heard similar words before," he murmured. "So tell me then. I've had many lovers here, separated. They've all begged me to send them back and reunite them with their grieving soulmate. I have granted none of them their wish, for it was not to be, as they did not know what love truly was. Why should you be the exception?"

"Because we know what love is," Draco said simply. "If not because we are Inima, then at least send Harry back because he is the last of the Viatacatre."

"What he is doesn't matter to me," Death said dismissively. "What makes you think you know what love is?"

"Because we never knew it before now," Harry said calmly. Draco turned to look at him, his arms tightening in an encouraging manner. Death looked at him curiously. "Draco and I have grown up in rather…difficult homes. Our guardians, the ones assigned to protect and love us, never showed us love. Rather, the opposite. It's a miracle that we even survived our tenth birthdays. We had friendships, we had crushes, but before we became Inima, we never knew _love_."

"We nearly joined your realm," Draco explained. "We would have for certain, if it wasn't for love. It is because of love that we have avoided joining you, many times over. And it won't be changing this time, because Harry is coming back with me."

"No, he's not." Death was now standing, and he approached the two. Slowly, with a slithering grace, he descended the steps of the throne, before standing tall before the two young men. "I will never release him," he hissed menacingly. Harry's eyes flickered with fear, and Draco moved so he was in front of his Inima protectively. He met Death's glare boldly.

"Yes. You. Will," Draco snarled quietly. "I will not leave without him."

"I do believe you will. I will not give up Harry's soul, unless there was another to trade for it." There was a wicked gleam in Death's clear eye, and Draco felt uneasy. This was a test; would Draco give himself for Harry?

He would. "Then take mine," he murmured, almost inaudibly. Behind him, Harry stiffened, and grabbed at his upper arm.

"Draco, no," he gasped.

Draco didn't turn to look at him, instead ignoring him. He continued to hold Death's gaze, which was slowly becoming triumphant. "Take my soul, in exchange for Harry's," he repeated.

"I accept your offer…" Death's gaze gleamed with a cold glee.

"No."

All three males turned. Sirena was standing in a firm, wide stance. Her eyes burned with an unreadable mix of emotions. "I will not allow this," she said in a soft, determined voice.

"You will not allow it?" Death asked incredulously. His clear eye darkened to a near black. "Are you defying me?"

"I am," she said coldly. Stepping forward, she took her place in front of Draco, keeping him from Death's reach. "I once made the mistake he is about to make…and I will never let another person suffer the way I have. Let them go, Death. Please."

"I will not-"

"Let. Them. Go."

Death's anger began to fade, replaced by a strange, unidentifiable gleam. Sirena sensed that she was gaining the upper hand, and pressed forward. "They do not deserve this…you know you can send them back, and that Harry has a chance at life, provided he makes the right choices. You already destroyed me…when will you be satisfied? When you have completely choked out love? You are a cold, bitter creature, Death. That is why I could never bring myself to love you." Her gaze was sympathetic, but serious.

Death lowered his gaze. "I will not tolerate this," he snarled, concealing his hurt with anger. "You will step down. Now."

"Not until you relent. Let them go."

"No."

"You don't need another soul…"

"No."

Sirena's eyes flashed. "You made me give up my old, happy life, so that you could have a chance at love. You would have done anything to win my affections…anything. So why do you now prove to me once more that I was right in refusing you?"

Death recoiled. "Silence," he snapped. "Or I'll-"

"You can't hurt me. I do not fear physical pain, nor can I die. And there is nothing more you can take from me. I do not fear you," came the quiet reply, her voice slightly trembling with anger.

"Please." Draco stepped forward, peering over Sirena's shoulder. His eyes were pleading. "You have to let us go. Have I not proved myself to you? That I would do anything?"

Death's eyes were shadowed, hiding his emotions and thoughts. "You did manage to get here," he admitted, "despite the dreams I sent to keep you from your task, and despite the obstacles I set in your way…"

"_You_ did that?" Draco cried.

Death ignored him. "You did demonstrate unconditional love," he murmured. He was silent for a few minutes, during which everyone else remained silent. Death sighed. "Very well. I will release you, on one condition."

Draco, Harry, and Sirena all eyed Death suspiciously. "What is it?" Draco asked warily.

Death smiled smugly. "You have one year to find another soul to replace Harry's."

"What?" Harry's eyes widened.

"You heard me. One year. You must find a soul willing to trade places with Harry's. One not close to me already. A willing sacrifice."

"You cruel beast," Sirena snapped. "You know that's unnecessary."

"It is my price," Death said coldly. "If I have not received a soul in trade, then Harry will return to me, and this time, it won't be reversible."

Fear struck Draco's heart. But he had to do it. He looked at Harry, who looked pleadingly back at him. With hesitancy, Draco murmured, "We accept your condition. We will find a soul to trade."

"Or else return to me forever," Death cackled. "Our bargain is sealed then." He waved a hand, and a pendant similar to Harry's appeared in the palm of his other hand. He stepped forward, handing the pendant to Draco. "The eyes of the serpent will slowly turn black," he said, pointing out the white crystal eyes. "When they are black, your year is up, and Harry becomes mine."

Draco slipped the pendant on slowly. "I understand," he said quietly. "_We_ understand." He took Harry's hand in his. "Now…return us to the Land of the Living."

Death smirked. "See you in a year, Harry," he said tauntingly. "Sirena? The portal…"

She stepped towards the two of them. "I wish you two luck," she murmured. Kissing Harry's forehead, she gazed at him for a moment. "We may not have spent much time together, but I am glad to have met you, _both_ of you. I hope your love is not as misfortunate as mine. May you have many happy times, in the _many_ years to come. May I not see you for a long, long time." With a bittersweet smile, she raised her hand, and chanted the words. The portal appeared, and with a final glare towards Death, Draco led Harry through the portal. There was a bright flash, then the portal disappeared, leaving behind Death and his Siren.


	7. Chapter 7: Downward Spiral

**A/N: **I seem to have messed up middle names. Apparently Lucius' middle name is Abraxas, but I already used that as Draco's, so I gave Lucius the middle name of Sceleris instead, which supposedly means "evil one" in Latin. Ironic much? I don't know, I just used a translator. Any Latin speakers?

* * *

There was another flash that nearly blinded them both. Draco felt Harry sagging in his arms weakly, and, concerned, he held him tightly to his chest, supporting Harry's weight with his own. The flash faded, and Draco blinked, the Room of Requirement coming into focus. Hermione, Pansy, and Blaise were all staring at them, wide mouthed. "You just left, and now you're back?" Blaise whispered, confused. Apparently no time had passed.

Draco shrugged, a happy grin settling over his face, as Hermione shrieked, "Oh, Harry!" before flinging herself at him. Harry staggered weakly, as the force drove the breath from him.

"Hermione," he choked.

Draco gingerly removed Harry from her grasp. "He's feeling the effects of the journey," he said gently. "Let's get him seated first." Hermione's eyes brightened in understanding, and they all moved to the couches, where Pansy and Blaise proceeded to mimic Hermione's enthusiastic greeting, awkwardly hugging the seated Harry.

Draco sat beside Harry, arm around his Inima. He never wanted to let go again. Hermione sat on the floor by Harry's feet, her eyes studying her best friend. "Never do that to me again," she murmured. Harry looked apologetic.

"I had to…you know that," he said quietly, looking at his hands, which were clasped in his lap.

Draco rubbed his shoulder reassuringly. "Look, what happened, happened," he sighed. "I don't want to even remember the past few months. Let's just focus on living our lives now…"

"What was it like?" Blaise interjected.

Harry shuddered. "I was treated well, but it was still horrible." He shifted uncomfortably. "Death took every opportunity he could to taunt me with horrid visions…it was worse than being connected to Voldemort." A haunted look came into his eyes. "Please…don't ask me to go into any more detail. I don't want to ever think about it…"

"You don't have to," Draco soothed. "Let's talk about the other problems at hand…like, how are we going to explain your sudden reappearance?"

Hermione smiled. "Already taken care of," she said triumphantly. "It has been released to one humble Rita Skeeter, who doesn't want certain information leaked about her, and she has agreed to write an article detailing an ancient ritual that revives a lost Inima. Unfortunately, that means that your marriage, as well as the fact that you are Inimae, is now public information." She looked apologetic. Draco shrugged.

"Saves us the hassle of making up a new story," he said amicably. "So that's one problem solved…"

"What's the other?" Pansy asked. Draco and Harry shared a long look.

"Death only let me go on one condition," Harry muttered. Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"And what was that?" she demanded. "Harry, you didn't promise anything bad, did you?"

"Depends on how you look at it," Draco said bitterly. "Death said we had to find another willing soul to take Harry's place. We have one year to do so, otherwise he takes Harry back, forever."

A stunned silence met his words. Harry shrunk against his side nervously, and Draco sensed the emotions roiling within him.

Ah, how he missed being able to see, touch, and speak to Harry…he'd even missed their telepathic bond, and the emotions he could sense.

He was distracted enough to almost miss Hermione's quiet voice.

"I'll do it."

"No."

Draco was reminded of the strength Harry possessed, as Harry snapped. "I refuse to let you trade your soul for mine," Harry continued adamantly. "I will find someone else. None of you."

"But Harry-"

"No, Hermione." Harry's eyes were anguished. "I've already lost a lot of people…I can't lose you too. You're all I have left of my childhood." They shared a long look.

"Did you see…_him_, down there?" Hermione asked softly, referring to their lost friend. Harry shook his head.

"I was kept from the other souls," he answered. "It's like Death knew and anticipated Draco's coming."

"So what are you going to do then?" Blaise asked. Harry shrugged.

"I have a year to think about that…right now, I just want to enjoy the life Draco restored to me…I want to be happy and carefree, for the first time in my life. For once, I don't have any expectations resting on me." He smiled peacefully. It caused Draco to smile as well. Kissing Harry's cheek, he squeezed him lightly.

"And you can be." _You can be just Harry,_ Draco murmured in his mind. Harry glanced at him lovingly.

_At last,_ he replied.

•••

As expected, the hubbub that surrounded Harry's return was overwhelming. Owls poured in, to the point where Headmaster Dumbledore, pleased with Harry's return and desiring a certain level of comfort for the young man, set up a system that would filter out fan mail, requests for interviews, and even a few hate letters, no doubt from secret Voldemort supporters. Only the few owls that were approved would be let through.

A similar system was set up for Draco, though it was less secure, allowing a few distasteful letters to slip through. It was in this way that Draco came to receive an unmarked letter. Slitting it open, he pulled the paper out just enough to briefly recognize the spidery, elegant handwriting. His heart sank, as he shoved it back into the envelope. It was another one of _those_ letters.

Harry looked up, in time to catch Draco's frown. For a brief moment, he wished he was sitting at the Slytherin table, so he could ask what was wrong. _Wait a minute…_ He grinned to himself. He had Telepathy.

_Draco?_ he asked. The blonde's gaze shot up, and for a moment, uncertainty flickered across his face, before he smiled.

_Yeah?_

_What was that?_

Draco's smile faltered slightly. _Nothing._ Despite Harry's warning look, Draco refused to say anything more. _Just some…upsetting news._

_C'mon, Draco, we're Inima, for Merlin's sake! Just tell me…_

_Don't worry about it._

_Don't be like that…_

_Come off it, Harry. It's not important._ Harry huffed, and retreated from Draco's mind, ignoring the blonde's gentle, but firm apology. He turned to Hermione, ignoring the apologetic look Draco shot him. Hermione looked up at him, then glanced over her shoulder at Draco. Her lips parted in the beginning of a question, then closed, as she thought better of it. With a small sigh, she returned to reading her book, leaving Harry to poke at his food, ignoring the occasional look sent his way, and the attempts of Draco to catch his attention.

•••

Dumbledore had somehow convinced the castle to add an extra room, somewhere near the Room of Requirement, for Harry and Draco since they were married Inima. The room had been decorated to their liking, and both rather liked the idea of returning to his own room, shared by their special someone.

But right now, Harry would rather be anywhere. He was still ignoring Draco, still hurt by the earlier snub. And now the blonde wouldn't leave him alone.

"C'mon, Harry, I said I was sorry…" Harry kept his eyes on the page in his new Potions book. Even though he'd saved the Wizarding World, he was still expected to finish his schooling, which meant catching up on a ton of homework. Not even the excuse of being dead got him out of it.

"Ignoring me isn't going to make me tell you anything," Draco said irritably. "You don't need to behave like a first year."

"I thought we agreed to tell each other everything," Harry said, breaking his vow of silence. He still didn't look up. Draco's face fell.

"We did," he replied, his voice quiet.

"So why not now?"

"Because…it doesn't concern you."

"But it seems to concern you." Harry finally looked up. "Draco, anything that upsets you concerns me."

"It's not upsetting-"

"So you were lying to me earlier?" Draco stopped midsentence. Harry's tone was disappointed. "Which is it, Draco? Upsetting or not? Whatever it is, it does seem to be bothering you…why?"

There was a long silence, as Draco gazed at the small fireplace. Harry sighed, and returned to his book.

"It's from my father."

Harry's head snapped up. "What?" he breathed.

Draco turned around. "It's from my father," he snapped. "It's a threat letter, okay? A bloody threat."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked, his eyes hurt. "How long has this been going on? Is it the first one?"

"No, it's not the first one, and it's been going on awhile," Draco growled. "I didn't tell you because one, you were dead, and two, when you were brought back, I didn't want to worry you."

Harry recoiled. "Sorry," he snarled, the hurt deepening. Why was Draco yelling at him?

"Too late for that…is this how it's always going to be? You always pressuring me into telling you something I don't want to tell you?"

"It will be if you're always keeping bloody secrets from me!" Harry yelled in return.

"It's always got to be about you, huh? Always about your knowledge, because the oh-so-almighty Harry Potter can't stand being in the dark, even if it's for his own good, huh?" Draco's eyes sparked with anger, as Harry's began to dull with fear and hurt. But the blonde didn't notice it, as he spat out words of venom. "You're such a prat, Potter. Just because you saved the bloody Wizarding World doesn't give you the right to act like you're so high and mighty."

"Then maybe I shouldn't have saved the Wizarding World, huh, Malfoy?"

"Got that right. Maybe someone else would have made a better hero. Maybe someone else who wasn't so full of themselves! Someone who could do something of worth without getting a big head over it!"

Draco stopped suddenly, his chest heaving, and a feeling of dread sinking over him. Harry had slammed his book shut, and was now standing in front of Draco. His eyes glittered with unshed tears. "So that's what you think then?" he asked softly. "I'm just a prat who's full of himself? That I shouldn't have ever been born? That saving the Wizarding World was the only thing of worth I ever did?"

Draco opened his mouth to take it back, but it was too late.

"Good to know that's how you feel," Harry whispered, before shoving past Draco roughly, and exiting the room.

"Harry," Draco began, but there was only the slam of the door behind his Inima. He stood there for a moment, stunned, and unsure of what had just happened. Pain, hurt, and sorrow washed over him, and it brought tears to Draco's eyes. The amount of _pain_ that Harry was feeling…

He reached out with his mind, only to find himself being blocked. And suddenly, the stream of emotions from Harry was cut off. Harry was completely blocking him off. Suddenly afraid for his Inima, and what Harry might do considering how distraught he was, Draco took off running out of the room.

"Harry!" he called. There was no answer, and the corridor was now empty. Harry was gone, and Draco had no idea where he'd gone.


	8. Chapter 8: A Puzzling Letter

**A/N: **Reviews are always appreciated. ^^

* * *

He was still for a few seconds, then suddenly, Draco took off sprinting. _Gotta find Harry,_ he thought frantically. But where could Harry be? First stop was the library. No Harry, or Hermione like he'd hoped. Second stop was Gryffindor tower, where he all but threatened a terrified first year to check to see if Hermione was in.

She was. "What's wrong?" she asked, her brow furrowed. Hermione glanced down at her pjs, covered up by a robe. "This had better be important…"

"Harry's gone missing." She paled.

"What? When? Why?" she demanded. Draco ran a hand roughly through his hair.

"I…we got in an argument, and I said some things I shouldn't have…he took off, and I lost him," Draco murmured, ashamed and angry with himself. Hermione touched his shoulder.

"It's alright…let's just find him…any ideas where he could be?"

Draco shook his head, as a presence entered his mind.

_Hurry, Dragon. Your Inima needs you desperately, before he does something rash…_

"Sirena?" Draco asked aloud. Hermione cocked her head in confusion.

_Use your mind…you know where he is…I can sense his pain and desperation…He cannot be lost, otherwise other souls will be lost as well..._

_Where is he?_

_I cannot tell…I can only sense him…and I can touch his mind…but barely. He's trying to block me out…I fear he has hurt himself._

Draco's eyes widened, and fear for Harry made his heart pound. "Where could he be?" he muttered, beginning to feel hysteric. Hermione's hand tightened on his shoulder soothingly, and suddenly, Draco knew.

Without stopping to tell Hermione, he took off, on a path that had become eerily familiar the year before, and still possessed the jarring terror and darkness that had driven him and Harry along it many times before.

Ignoring Hermione's confused calls, he soon disappeared. He could not run fast enough, even though he felt like his lungs were going to explode. The corridors were rapidly emptying, as curfew drew nearer. Still, the occasional student stopped to stare as one Draco Potter sprinted past.

Abruptly, he slid to a stop, in front of a door that sent chills down his spine. With dread as to what he might find, Draco pushed open the door to the abandoned girls' room.

Harry was kneeling in the middle of the floor amidst a circle of broken glass, hands clamped over his ears as he slowly rocked back and forth. A low keening sound emanated from his throat. Afraid to startle Harry, especially considering the shards of glass surrounding him, Draco slowly moved forward. A crunch made him freeze, but Harry didn't seem to notice, as he let out a slow wail. It broke Draco's heart. _What have I done?_ he wondered wretchedly.

A glimpse of crimson caught his eye, and Draco sucked in a sharp breath. Blood was flowing from numerous cuts on Harry's hands, probably from breaking the mirror that had previously held the glass around him. His sleeves were drawn up to his wrists, but every movement from Harry made them slide back down to his elbows. Draco could see lines of red peeking out from under the folds of material. Bloody marks appeared every time Harry's knees moved, and Draco was sure they had been cut by glass as well.

It was a horrific scene, and Draco was reminded of the numerous nightmares Death had sent him, back when Harry was dead. He shuddered, stepping closer.

"Harry?" he murmured quietly, hating himself. The wailing stopped, and the echoes died away, leaving a silence that made Draco almost wish that Harry had continued the noise.

"Go away," came the short, harsh reply.

"Harry, listen…I didn't mean-"

"Go away. I hate you." Draco couldn't believe that the venomous voice belonged to Harry…it didn't even sound like his Inima. But he knew that it was…and the tone stemmed from the self-loathing, loneliness, and hurt that Draco knew he himself had caused.

"Harry...you don't mean that..."

"Draco? What are you doing here?"

Alright, this was strange. It was like Harry wasn't even listening to him. Or that he had just noticed Draco. "I came to find you," he said gently.

"I don't need help..."

"I am not going to leave you here like this," Draco said firmly.

"Why do you care?" Harry finally turned to face him with hollow, haunted eyes. The bloody streaks from his hands made his face even more grisly.

But it did not deter Draco. He knelt down, careful to avoid the shards around him, and gently wrapped his arms around Harry, who stiffened and attempted to shy away. As if feeling the injuries for the first time, he let out a hiss of pain, finally deciding to stay still, but tense, in Draco's grasp.

Draco gently cupped Harry's cheek with the palm of his hand, ignoring the blood. "Because I love you," he said softly. "Because you are the man I asked to marry. Even though I say stupid stuff, and don't deserve you. Even though I don't deserve your love. I care because you are my Inima, my Harry."

"I'm Harry bloody Potter, Malfoy. You only want me for my fame."

He was distraught, and not thinking clearly. That was the only thing that kept Draco from breaking apart. He had to be strong for Harry. He'd caused this…and now he had to fix it.

"No, Harry." He forced Harry to meet his eyes. "I want you because you make me feel whole. When I first walked into this bathroom, and saw you dying before my eyes…that was the first time I'd ever felt so lost, like if you died, so would I. After you recovered, when my father brought me before the Dark lord, you saw through the fear, and you saw through my cold mask. You knew I needed you. And you came to save me from myself…I need you, Harry. Countless times, you've kept me from going off the deep end…and when I lost you, I lost part of myself, Harry. To imagine a future alone, without you by my side…"

His voice softened. "I tried to kill myself, Harry…I wanted to join you in Death. But something kept me from dying each time. I was found or stopped each time…and finally I gave up, because I knew something was keeping me alive."

Draco met Harry's gaze evenly. "Hate me for what I said tonight. I don't blame you. But, Harry…" His voice broke. "I want you…I need you. I can't lose you again. I'm so afraid of losing you, that I'd do anything…even lie to you, to protect you. That's why I said those things tonight. I didn't mean any of it. It's no excuse though…I'm so sorry, Harry. Please…don't leave me. I'm so afraid to lose you…" His voice trailed off, as Harry's eyes dropped to the ground.

"All the lies…about your father's letters…the way you got angry…it's because you were scared for me?"

Draco nodded slowly. "I was afraid that if you got involved, that he'd hurt you."

Harry's eyes were glistening, as he looked up. "You were so angry," he whispered. "I just wanted to fulfill my promise…I promised he'd never hurt you again…I felt like I was breaking my promise, but then you were just so angry…" A silent sob wracked his body again, and Harry clasped his fists to his ears again. "Shut up! Just shut up, okay?" he sobbed. Draco frowned, confused. "Just go away!"

His heart clenched painfully, and Draco decided that it would be for the best if he just left. Obviously, Harry didn't want him around right now. Scrunching his eyes shut miserably, he moved to stand. A hand clutched at the sleeve of his shirt, keeping him from standing.

"Where are you going?" Harry whispered. His voice was small, fearful of being left alone.

"I thought you wanted me to leave…"

"Not you. _Him._ Them."

"Who?"

"Death. And Voldemort…and my uncle…they're there. I can see them…I can hear them…"

"Voldemort?" Draco asked, dread in his voice.

"Well, memories, shadows of him. He's dead, and he's never coming back unless he was raised, which Death wouldn't allow, considering how reluctant he was to let me go. But I can remember the words he said…" Harry swallowed painfully. "Certain memories never go away…"

Draco drew Harry up gently, careful to avoid touching any of the numerous cuts on his Inima. "That's why I'm here," he whispered. "You'll never have to be alone…I'm here." He pressed a soft kiss to the other's forehead, before gently leading him from the bathroom, casting a quick Cleaning charm over the bathroom. "Do you want to go to Pomfrey, or would you rather I heal you?" he asked, just before they left the doorway. The corridor was empty.

Harry shrugged. "I'd rather you healed me," he said softly.

"Alright…I've got some Dittany in our room. Let's get you healed up."

They made their way quickly to the Seventh floor, with Draco murmuring their personal password to the portrait guarding the door. The lion and snake entwined. Dumbledore had a weird sense of humor, Draco reflected, as the portrait swung open.

Inside, he sat Harry down on the couch, and set to work healing the cuts. Harry downed the Dittany, wrinkling his nose as he did so. "Nasty stuff," he muttered.

"But it works," Draco snorted. "Alright…let's get you cleaned up…"

He warmed a small bowl of water, and grabbed a towel, before returning to the couch. Harry had loosened the top buttons of his shirt, and was working the sleeve up, grimacing.

"It'd be easier if you just took your shirt off," Draco chuckled, wanting to save Harry's shirt from becoming even bloodier. Harry scowled at him, but ended up pulling the shirt over his head, leaving him bare-chested and streaked with blood. Draco found himself staring at the Quidditch and wartime-defined muscles, from the toned abs to the hardened shoulder muscles, before he blinked. Harry was raising an eyebrow at him.

"Done staring?" he teased. Draco glared at him, before dipping the towel in the water. Gently, he began to clean the blood from Harry's chest and arms, trying not to lose concentration. It was difficult, but he managed to clean up his Inima, before setting the bowl to the side. Harry surprised him with a sudden, passionate kiss, and finally, Draco allowed himself to let go, as Harry pulled him back down onto him. Healing wounds were forgotten as the night and their passions wore on.

•••

The next morning found Hermione worriedly checking Harry over, earning her a glare of confusion. "'Mione, I'm fine," Harry sighed. "Really. Draco and I got in an argument, but we made up." _More than made up,_ he thought, flushing slightly. Hermione didn't notice, as she grabbed his sleeves and pushed them up.

"You aren't using a glamour, are you?" she asked suspiciously.

"Only to hide the old scars and battle wounds," Harry replied. "Come on, Draco already took care of me."

"So you cut?"

"No…well…not really. I punched a mirror, and that ended up cutting me up pretty badly…"

"What?"

Draco walked up just then, grumbling about mornings and why they came so bloody early. Immediately guessing the reason for Hermione's concern and Harry's irritation, he grunted. "Don't worry, Hermione. I checked him myself." Finally, the bushy-haired girl seemed satisfied.

"Alright…we're late to Transfiguration. Let's go."

Harry gave Draco a grateful glance as they followed her off down the corridors.

•••

He was careful not to let McGonagall see as he unfolded the parchment he'd received earlier. Looking down, Draco began to read.

_Draco,_

_It seems as though you have been ignoring the owls I've sent you. This is quite frustrating news indeed. I'm afraid I may have lost my temper once or twice, and it's caused me to do some…regrettable things…_

Draco's eyes widened. What regrettable things?

_Oh, you might be happy enough about the new obstacle I've thrown your way, with some help of course…but rest assured that it will not have a happy ending, unless you agree to leave that vile Potter, and rejoin me, in your proper place as my Heir._

_To aid you in your decision…if I can do enough damage to an adult, imagine what I could do to a child…say an infant?_

_Just think about it._

_Your father,_

_Lucius Sceleris Malfoy_

Draco scowled at the letter, glad Harry sat behind him and far enough away to not be able to see his expression or the letter. He crumpled the parchment, shoving it into his pocket roughly. What was that supposed to mean? Did he have a long-lost brother or something? No, his father had mentioned something about a kid…a baby…what a bunch of hogwash. Draco snorted, and ignored the letter, focusing his attention on McGonagall's lecture. Hopefully Blaise had been paying attention for him…he wasn't sure he knew how to turn a rat into an owl.

•••

Harry wrinkled his nose. "What is it now?" Hermione sighed, catching his look.

"This smells nasty," Harry muttered. Hermione looked down at the food in front of them.

"I think it smells delicious," she sniffed. "Don't see what your problem is…"

Harry grimaced again. He'd promised Draco that he'd make himself eat, and he'd finally gotten over the 'eating disorder', as Draco called it. Starving himself or whatever. But honestly, who could blame him? This food looked good, but the smell of it made Harry feel sick.

"I'm sorry, Hermione…I just don't feel well." Harry stood, shoving his plate back. "I haven't been feeling well all day. I'm just tired. I'm fine, really." Hermione's brow furrowed in concern.

"Have you been to see Madame Pomfrey?" Harry shook his head. "Did you tell Draco?" Guiltily, he again shook his head. She sighed. "Harry, he needs to know these things…you know he worries about you. Especially when you don't eat for no reason. See? He's looking over here now?"

Harry glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, Draco was eyeing him worriedly. _You okay?_ he asked in Harry's mind.

_Yeah. I'm fine. Just not hungry._

Draco frowned, but Harry gave him a reassuring smile, and turned back to Hermione. "He worries too much," Harry hissed in a low whisper. "That's why I haven't told him. It's only been a couple of weeks since we last argued, and I don't want a repeat." Understanding flashed in his friend's eyes.

"Alright…but if you're still sick by tomorrow, then you have to tell him…"

"Fine."

•••

_Alright, Hermione, I think he's figured it out,_ Harry thought wryly, before being sick again. Draco entered the bathroom once more, a cloth soaked in cool water dripping from his hand. Concern was written on the blonde's face, as he knelt by Harry, applying the towel to the back of Harry's neck.

"How long have you been sick and not telling me?" Draco asked, voice tight with worry. "Has it been bad?"

Harry shook his head, another heave rippling through his body. "It's just a bug," he muttered, his throat sore from the acidic bile. "I wasn't feeling well yesterday. I'm guessing this is just the onslaught of it."

Draco didn't seem convinced. "I think you should see Madame Pomfrey…you don't have a fever or anything, so I don't know what is going on with you…"

"I'm fine. See, it's going away." Harry managed to sit back on his heels, accepting a clean cloth from Draco to wipe his mouth with. "It comes and goes, I guess. Right now, I'm feeling better. Come on. I'll just go to my first class and see how that goes…"

"Not without breakfast." At Harry's pleading look, Draco relented. "Fine, just this once. Since you were sick. But you have to eat an extra amount at lunch, to make up for it, okay?"

Harry just scowled at him.

•••

"That's it. We're taking you to the infirmary." Ignoring Harry's weak protests, Draco dragged him up, supporting Harry's weight. "This is the fourth day in a row that you've been sick. And it's not just a 'little bug'. It's a feverless flu-like thing. I just want to make sure it isn't some Wizarding disease, because those can be dangerous." Harry gave in, allowing Draco to lead him from the room and down to the infirmary.

"Mr. Potter, what have you done this time?" Pomfrey sighed, bustling over. "Take him to his usual bed. I ought to hang a sign there with his name on it." She hurried off down the rows, calling over her shoulder, "I'll be right over. Just let me file something."

Harry settled himself on the bed, looking a little pale. Draco held his hand comfortingly, as Madame Pomfrey returned after a moment. Her eyes widened perceptively, and she Summoned a bucket, shoving it under Harry's chin not a moment too soon.

Several retches later, Harry was able to lean back against the pillows shakily. "Now it's fading," he grumbled. "Stupid sickness."

"How long has he been throwing up?" Pomfrey asked briskly, grabbing a chart of paper and scribbling some notes.

"About four days now, I think…"

"But I've been feeling ill for about seven," Harry interjected. "I think it's 'cause I'm just tired. Merlin knows I've been practically falling asleep in class for the past few weeks."

Pomfrey eyed him, before running her wand over Harry. "Well, no fever," she murmured to herself. "White blood cell count is normal, no abnormalities that I can see-" She cut herself off, turning sharply to Draco.

"What?" he asked, unnerved, as the Mediwitch suddenly turned back to Harry, waving her wand over him once more. The tip of her wand flashed green, and she muttered something to herself, that sounded an awful lot like 'new life'. Again, Draco asked, "What? What is it?"

"Again, how long has this been happening?" Madame Pomfrey asked, ignoring him.

"About a week," Harry answered.

"And have you taken any strange potions, or tasted anything…unusual in your food?"

"Well…I took Dittany, 'cause I accidentally cut myself pretty badly – don't worry, Draco healed me," he said hastily, at Madame Pomfrey's immediate concern, "so I'm fine now – but no, I don't really taste my food when I eat it…I just eat it. I didn't taste anything strange. Why?"

Draco was beginning to have a sinking feeling in his stomach. His father's letter…Harry's illness…Madame Pomfrey's questioning suspicion…

"And have you two...well..." Draco and Harry were surprised to see a light blush coating her cheeks. "Have you two had coitus lately?" At their blank looks, she sighed. "Have you two been _together_ intimately?" Finally, both understood, and both flushed, as Draco nodded stiffly.

"Why does it matter?" Harry asked, confused. Draco suddenly understood, as Madame Pomfrey spoke, and he began to scream in his mind.

_No, no, no, NO! Merlin forbid, he didn't...the letter..._

"Because…well, Harry dear…I'm not sure how to tell you this…I mean, there are many potions that make it possible, so it's not impossible…but you're…you're…"

"He's pregnant," Draco whispered in horror.


	9. Chapter 9: Another Spy, Another Obstacle

**A/N:** Sara: Neither of them is dominant nor submissive. They are equal with each other, which menas it goes both ways. :) Harry was slipped a male pregnancy potion by a secret someone who cannot be named at this time, which made him highly fertile. Draco did not receive the potion, which is why he did not get pregnant.

Fred: Very well, I'll add that in to the summary.

For the rest of you, I usually respond personally, but it's easier if you all sign in so I can directly message you. :) And now, on to the story.

* * *

Laughter startled them both. Draco and Madame Pomfrey turned to see Harry laughing. "You guys are hilarious," he chuckled, gasping for breath. "Nice acting…did you come up with that one, Draco?"

Slowly, the smile on his face faded, as both Draco and Madame Pomfrey shared an incredulous look. "Harry-" Draco began.

"You're not joking, are you?" Draco sighed, and shook his head. Harry paled, and crossed his arms over his stomach, in a semi-protective guesture.

"I can't be…that's impossible. I can't be…_pregnant_." He whispered the final word, as if it was a curse.

"Actually, it _is_ possible," Madame Pomfrey said quietly. "If a wizard takes a fertility potion, he becomes extremely fertile, and able to become pregnant for a week."

"But I didn't take a fertility potion…"

"That you know of," Draco finished for him. Harry's eyes shot up to meet his husband's, and he paled at the knowing expression on Draco's face. "My father did this," he whispered. "He must have drugged your food somehow…there's no other explanation."

"There's another spy in our midst," Harry whispered. Draco nodded slowly.

"There must be."

Pomfrey looked confused, but ignored it. "Harry, now that you are pregnant, many things are going to have to change," she said gently.

"How so? And how does that explain why I was so sick earlier?"

Madame Pomfrey sighed, and motioned to them to follow her into her office. She closed the door and threw up a Silencing charm, before sitting behind her desk, allowing the two boys to sit by each other on a small loveseat she had in the small room.

"Harry, your illness only further proves your pregnancy. I suspect it is what women call 'morning sickness'. Heard of it?" A tentative nod from both young men. "Don't worry, it should only last for a few more weeks. Although, it's a good thing. Morning sickness means the baby is healthy."

Alright, that was good…as weird as the whole situation was, and as potentially disastrous…Harry found himself glad about the whole thing. He and Draco were going to have a baby…the idea both terrified and thrilled him.

Draco sensed the mixed emotions, and began to feel the same way himself. Even though his father could potentially hurt their child…it was _their_ child. He and Harry would have a family…it made him all warm and fuzzy inside, in a way that would have made him want to puke if it weren't so pleasant.

"Anyways, other things you'll experience as the baby grows include mood swings, craving, and swelling of the ankles and feet. You'll definitely feel discomfort at times, but hopefully Draco and your friends can help make it easier on you, Harry. Your back is going to be sore from all the extra weight, and you'll find yourself needing to use the loo a lot more often."

Okay…not fun. Harry grimaced. "What else?" he asked wryly. Madame Pomfrey's features grew serious.

"The thing that makes wizard pregnancies so rare," she began slowly, "is the danger that is presented to both parent and child. First of all, it is very likely that the baby will be born premature, though hopefully, with potions and such, we can put off the birth as long as possible. Miscarriage is also a very real possibility right now. You must be as careful as possible if you want this baby to survive." She studied the two. Both were pale, as each considered the possibilities. A reassuring smile spread across her face. "I'm sure you'll be fine…I'm just letting you know what could happen. You're a Viatacatre...you should be stronger than most wizards. You've got everything going for you."

"Is that all that could happen?" Harry asked in a small voice, seemingly not hearing her reassurances. She shook her head.

"No. Many things could go wrong. We'll just make sure they don't. What I am most concerned about is you, Harry. Your body is already forming a temporary womb around the baby, thanks to the potion, giving it the protection and nourishment that all babies have when inside the mother. When the time comes for you to give birth, well, that's when things are most dangerous for you.

"See, as the eighth month rolls around, your body begins to search for a way to expel the baby from your body. But, as you lack the…necessary parts for birthing, it must be via Cesarean section. We'll have to surgically remove the baby, and the temporary womb. The danger lies in your body itself. You will experience contractions as the body tries to do the normal birthing process. Should you go into contractions early, and we be unable to perform the operation in time, it could push the baby into a location that could make it impossible to extract the child, and it could prove fatal for both you and the baby, as internal organs could be damaged." Draco's hand tightened painfully around Harry's fingers.

"We can't let that happen," he whispered.

Madame Pomfrey shook her head. "Merlin forbid," she agreed. "We will do everything in our power to make this a successful pregnancy. Starting with your habits, Harry, and even some of yours, Draco."

"I'll do what I need to," Harry murmured.

"Good, that's what we need." Madame Pomfrey tapped her fingers on the desk lightly. "Harry, Draco, I know you've both had dark pasts, and I will not pry. But listen to me. You must let go of your past. Do not allow any negativity to wear on you. Harry, stress is bad for you. Guessing by your conversation several minutes ago, something is going on that is potentially stressful. Allow your husband to take care of whatever it is. Draco, if you need to hide things from Harry, it might be best, especially if you know it will stress him out. No, Harry, it _is_ necessary," she said, raising her voice to cut off Harry's protests. "Harry, if you want this to be a successful pregnancy, stress is the last thing you need," she said softly. "I want you to be relaxed, and have a positive attitude. Try to laugh or be happy as often as possible. Don't think about negative things. I'll talk with a few of your teachers in private, as well as Dumbledore, and see if we can get you some leniency on homework." Harry scowled.

"Great. More of my private life to be spread around," he grumbled.

"Harry, many people will be happy for you, and will be rooting for a safe pregnancy," the Mediwitch assured him. "Your supporters will be there for you. And you have your friends. I think you'll find allies in unlikely places as well."

"Anything else?" Draco asked, successfully averting any more grumbles on Harry's part.

"Yes. Harry, you're frightfully underweight for your age and height. Luckily, you've got plenty of muscle to make up for it, but if you don't start putting on weight, you're going to deteriorate, and the baby won't get the nutrients it needs, meaning a miscarriage, or at best a severely underdeveloped baby. That means you need to eat. And not just junk food. I need you to eat healthy food, and lots of it."

"I don't want to be fat," Harry whimpered. Draco knew why, and he leaned over, kissing his husband's cheek.

"You could never be fat," he whispered in his ear. "Don't worry. I will always love you; you will never be like them. You're not fat, and you won't be fat. Do it for the baby…for me."

It seemed to calm Harry, and Madame Pomfrey gave Draco an approving look.

"Also, you need plenty of sleep and water. Both will help you as well as the baby. Light exercise will be fine, as long as you're able to move around anyways. It will strengthen the both of you."

"I heard singing or talking to the baby can help," Draco suggested. She laughed.

"A myth, but we don't know for sure. Who knows, maybe singing to the baby will help it to recognize your voices when it's born, or help form the bond between parents and child. It won't hurt, so go ahead and do so.

"Now, Draco. I need you to go above and beyond these next few months. Look after your husband, even if he doesn't want it. If it stresses him out, don't disagree with him. Just go along with it, as long as it isn't damaging. Do whatever it takes to keep Harry from overexerting himself." Draco nodded.

"It's only for nine months," he said with a laugh, noting Harry's deepening scowl at the idea of being waited on.

Madame Pomfrey frowned. "I thought you knew," she said, puzzled.

"Knew what?" Harry asked. "I didn't even know wizards could get pregnant!"

"Male pregnancies only last five months," she answered. "That's why underdevelopment is such a major concern. It's because it's an unnatural thing, a 'forced pregnancy' if you will. You'll start to show signs in about a week, and progress from there will be rapid."

"Well, at least there's one good thing," Harry laughed wryly. "I get to skip out on four months of bloatedness."

•••

"Pregnant?" shrieked Hermione and Pansy simultaneously. Harry winced.

"Yeah," he murmured, rubbing his ears. "Sheesh. I don't think I heard you that time. Want to be a little louder?"

Pansy smacked his shoulder lightly, then clasped a hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry…it didn't hurt the baby, did it?" she asked in a near-whisper. Harry gave her a look.

"I'm not that fragile," he muttered.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so happy for you!" Hermione cried, giving him a tight, but gentle squeeze. "I can't believe you're going to have a baby…a _baby_!"

"I definitely did not see this one coming," Blaise agreed from where he was sitting on the edge of the couch in the Room of Requirement, moving to flop across the areas where Pansy and Hermione had previously been sitting. They gave him withering looks, but he ignored them, stretching out luxuriously. "Could have given us a little warning, couldn't you, mate?"

"Actually…this wasn't planned," Draco said slowly, glancing at Harry, who nodded. "We think my father is out for revenge…and that we have another spy here at Hogwarts." Blaise sat up quickly, as Pansy and Hermione's gaze snapped up.

"Not another one," Blaise groaned.

"We'll have to keep an eye out for them," Pansy said dangerously. "There is no way they are getting to you two this time."

Harry smiled at her. "At least we have you three on alert. It'll help us. A lot. It means a lot to me that you guys are willing to do so much for us…"

"Think nothing of it, Harry," Blaise said, waving him off. "You made Draco happy, and you've proven yourself a good friend. Not to mention you kept You-Know-Who from getting his claws on us…I think we owe you more than we could ever repay."

Harry smiled up at Draco. "You trusted me, and let me have Draco…I'd say we're even."

•••

"He is what?" Severus Snape stared incredulously at his godson, who had an arm around his Inima protectively.

"Pregnant," Draco repeated.

Severus turned to look between the two. Harry shifted nervously under the black scrutiny, but to his credit, kept his gaze locked on Severus'. Draco stared back, daring Severus to say anything against Harry. "Well, congratulations," Severus said drily, turning back to the paperwork he was interrupted from. "But why are you telling me?"

"Well, first, because you are my godfather, and at the moment, the closest thing I have to family," Draco said quietly, causing a pang of guilt for being so rotten to run through the professor. "Secondly, because we need your help." Draco took a deep breath. "This pregnancy was not planned. Someone slipped Harry a pregnancy potion in his food. I have reason to believe that this person is working with my father, against Harry and myself. My father has sent letters confirming my suspicions that he wants revenge for what Harry and I did, and the roles we played in his humiliation and the fall of his master. I suspect that he will strike at the places we are weakest. Now that Harry is pregnant, he is weaker than usual. If my father does not strike now, he will soon, perhaps at our child even." Draco's eyes burned with a fierce desire to protect, one that Severus could relate to. He had felt much the same way when he'd learned of the Dark lord's plan to target Lily…

He wouldn't let the same pain befall Draco again. Never again. Not if he could help it. "Let me guess," Severus interrupted. "You wish my protection." Draco and Harry nodded slowly. "Very well. I will aid you where I can. Starting with strengthening potions for you, Mr. Potter." Draco gave him a look, and Severus sighed. "H-Harry. I will brew potions for you, Harry."

Harry glanced at a seemingly innocent Draco, before turning back to the scowling Potions professor. "A-alright," he murmured, confused. "Are they to help the baby?"

"And yourself," Severus answered, standing and going to his private stores. "I have the necessary ingredients, so come here first thing tomorrow morning, and we will start with the first round of potions."

_Peachy_, Harry thought with a grimace.


	10. Chapter 10: Attack

**_Harry Potter pregnant! Potter family thrilled!_**

_by Rita Skeeter, reporter for the Daily Prophet_

_The dark clouds are rolling away, and a patch of sunlight is shining through. Earlier this week, yours truly discovered an astonishing secret: the famous Savior of the Wizarding World, Harry Potter, is pregnant! The brave hero himself, accompanied with his husband and Inima Draco Potter nee Malfoy, agreed to give an exclusive interview to this inquisitive reporter for the Daily Prophet._

_When asked about a reason as to the sudden pregnancy, Harry replied with a laugh. "What better way to show that we can recover from the recent war than by starting a family?" he asked. "If Draco and I can start again, so can the rest of the Wizarding World, even amidst our grieving."_

_And so we can, my loyal readers. Even though we have just survived the darkest war of our time, we managed to vanquish the Dark lord, and so gained the opportunity to rebuild; an opportunity that many fine wizards and witches will never be able to experience. I challenge you, loyal readers, to go about your lives, living the life that people like Mr. Potter fought for you to have._

_The best of wishes go out to Harry Potter, that he may have a successful pregnancy, and that a healthy new addition be made to the family. Already, students and faculty at Hogwarts are holding their breaths, anxious for the baby and for Harry. This is happy news indeed, and just what a world starving for happiness needs._

_For the full interview with the Potter family, see page 3. For more information on grief counseling and other resources for those touched by the war, see page 6._

_•••  
_

There was a muted thud, and a louder oath. Draco raised an eyebrow, warily pushing open the door to the bedroom. He ducked, as a shoe flew past his head. "Harry?" he asked, crossing his arms and standing in the doorway. "Is there a reason why our room looks like a storm passed through?"

Clothes were strewn everywhere, and the culprit was standing by the wardrobe, a frown on his face. "None of them fit," Harry growled, crossing his own arms over his swollen belly. The rapid growth of it had caught him off guard, for it had only been three months; how much bigger could he get in another two months? All but a few of his clothes didn't fit him anymore. Only the old hand-me-downs from Dudley and some old sweatpants fit. Even those were a little tight. He'd been resigned to wearing his baggier robes. "I'm fat," he wailed, plopping down on the edge of the bed.

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. Honestly, he could put up with the weird cravings, and the lethargic days, but a moody Harry was not fun. Careful not to enrage Harry, Draco made his way over to the bed and sat beside Harry, wrapping an arm around his thickening waist. "Harry, you're not fat," he sighed. Harry let out a stubborn huff. "That's our baby in there…are you calling our child fat?"

"No…" Harry said slowly.

Draco set a gentle hand on Harry's stomach. There was a feather-like kick, and, as always, it thrilled him. "Sure, you can't fit your clothes now, but that's because you're carrying another being inside of you. C'mon, Harry, you should be happy! In two months, we'll have a baby!" Harry grimaced.

"I hate feeling fat." This time, Draco really did roll his eyes, but he was careful to avert his gaze, keeping Harry from seeing. He kissed Harry's forehead.

"You're not fat…Madame Pomfrey wanted us in the infirmary. I think we get to find out what it is, Harry. We can stop calling the baby an 'it'. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"I'm not a little kid, Draco," Harry retorted. "Don't talk in that tone."

Gritting his teeth and pleading to Merlin for patience, Draco sighed. "Alright, Harry. I'm…I'm sorry. Let's just go see her, okay?"

With a muffled grunt, Harry pushed himself off the bed, standing heavily. "I don't fit anything," he complained again. Draco held up a pair of trousers.

"Did you trying an enlarging or stretching charm?"

Harry frowned. "No, I didn't think of that," he admitted. "I guess it might work…"

"It's all we got for now…don't worry. Just two more months, and we'll be scot-free."

Draco took Harry's hand, and rubbed it with his thumb. Harry gave him a hesitant smile, then quickly redressed in baggy robes, before allowing Draco to lead him out the door.

The bulge that was Harry's stomach protruded slightly, but the shifting of the robes hid the majority of it. Still, that didn't stop a few students from pointing and whispering, before smiling at the couple, nor did it stop a few of the bolder girls from walking up and asking to touch Harry's stomach.

"I feel like a freak show," Harry muttered, as soon as another pair of girls moved on.

"Be glad. Most guys would kill for the attention we get from the ladies," Draco grinned. Harry eyed him jealously.

"Bet you'd rather be with one of those pretty ladies, hm?" he asked sullenly. Draco frowned, snapping his gaze to Harry.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. You're my husband and I love you."

"Now I'm ridiculous?"

Now Harry was just being irrational. Draco again gritted his teeth, and sucked in a deep, calming breath. "I didn't say you were. I said your actions were. Relax."

"Hmph." Harry stormed off, and Draco had to speed up. He was still a few steps away from Harry when a sudden red light jetted out of nowhere, striking Harry from the side. Seeing his Inima collapse, Draco darted forward, his wand instantly drawn.

His panicked grey eyes caught nothing except the glimpse of a fleeing, cloaked figure, and he shot a stunner at the figure, missing by several feet. But Draco had more serious things to think about than following the person that had hexed Harry.

Draco all but fell at Harry's side, noting the fetal position Harry had curled into, arms latched over his stomach. As students began to flock by the area, drawn by the sudden cry, Draco attempted to pull Harry's arms away. "Harry!" he cried, catching sight of the gashes across the other's midsection. A shocked gasp reached his ears, and Draco looked up, his face pale. "Somebody go get Madame Pomfrey," he pleaded. A fourth year Hufflepuff nodded her head, and dashed off, as a sixth year Ravenclaw moved forward.

"Let's start moving him there," he said shakily. "Otherwise she won't get here in time." Seeing the wisdom of the boy's words, despite his fear, Draco nodded. He stood, gently pulling Harry up with him, unable to gather him into his arms because of the recently added weight. Instead, he was forced to move at a much slower pace, as the Ravenclaw, Alex Heffley, helped him bear Harry's stumbling weight.

A low moan came from Harry, as sweat beaded his forehead. "The baby," he whispered. "Draco, help me…"

"I'm here, Harry, I'm here," Draco murmured. He ignored the continued shouts of alarm from students all around, and barely registered the other students forming a protective circle around Harry and his entourage.

"Draco! We're here," Pansy gasped as she and Hermione ran up, followed by Blaise. Another student trailed behind them, obviously having run for them as soon as the attack had happened.

"And so is Pomfrey," added Hermione. Sure enough, the Mediwitch shoved her way through the throng of students, instructing them to back off, as Draco propped Harry against a wall.

"Harry, I need you to move your arms," she said gently, but firmly. Harry didn't seem to hear her.

"The baby," he kept repeating. "Help me…"

"We want to help you, Harry…move your arms!"

Harry curled into a tighter ball. "Don't let them hurt it…"

Draco, panicking, grabbed Harry's wrists and began to pry them away. Harry struggled at first, but Draco made him meet his eyes. "It's alright, Harry…I'm here…I won't let anyone hurt our baby," he whispered soothingly.

"He wants it..." Harry whispered. Draco's eyes widened. "Death...he wants to steal my reasons to live...one by one..." His face became sallow and cold, and the eerie voice didn't sound like Harry at all. "One by one, he will lose all that he has to live for...and then he shall be mine..."

"Harry!" Draco snapped. "Death, leave him alone." Was no one else seeing this? Judging by the still scared expressions, he didn't think anyone had heard the exchange. A low chuckle sounded in his mind, and a lingering whisper rang out.

_He shall be mine..._

A greyish gleam flashed through Harry's eyes, then they once more became the brilliant green. "The baby," he whispered, his voice and appearance back to normal.

"It's okay, Harry...Madame Pomfrey's going to help..."

Slowly, Harry began to relax, and he let Draco peel away his arms, allowing Madame Pomfrey to inspect the wounds. Professor Snape pushed his way through the crowds as well, having been alerted by Blaise on the way over.

"I brought potions," he stated, his brow furrowed.

"A cutting hex," Madame Pomfrey murmured, ignoring him at first. "But not Sectumsempra. One meant to damage internal organs…"

As Snape knelt down beside her, inspecting the wounds, Draco met her eyes.

"Madame Pomfrey," he began desperately. "The baby…is it…?" Had Death won?

She met his gaze with a grave expression.


	11. Chapter 11: The Marauders

"You are very fortunate, Mr. Mal-Potter," she said slowly, catching herself as she said his new surname. A small thrill ran through him, as always – he was married, a strange concept indeed – but it was tempered by the worry he felt. "The baby is quite alright. A healthy baby girl, in fact." Relief washed over him, and Draco let out a quiet sigh. Around him, other students visibly relaxed as well, and it amazed him at how supportive and even enthusiastic many of them were.

Then it sunk in. A baby girl. They were having a daughter. Draco grinned, happier than he'd ever been, save for the moment when he and Harry were married.

_Harry._

Draco turned his attention to Harry, who was still bleeding, as Severus inspected the damage. "A Dark cutting curse," he announced after a moment. "Similar to Sectumsempra, but Darker. Fortunately, I think the counter spell for Sectumsempra will work." Sure enough, as Severus crooned the counter spell, the wounds began to knit together, and slowly, the pain eased from Harry's face. "Drink," Severus ordered, giving Harry several potions that Draco recognized. Harry obeyed, grimacing at the foul tastes.

"The baby?" he rasped, after having finished the last potion. Draco took his hand in his own, squeezing it gently.

"Safe. Our daughter is safe." Harry's eyes closed in relief, before they snapped open again.

"Daughter?"

"We're having a daughter," Draco confirmed happily. His happiness grew as he sensed Harry's excitement and ecstasy.

Madame Pomfrey interrupted the moment. "You are going to have to be even more careful now, Mr. Potter," she said seriously. "Obviously, someone is out to hurt you and your child, and obviously, you are no longer safe here at Hogwarts. Until Professor Dumbledore and perhaps even some Aurors can rectify the situation, you need to have people watching you at all times. You could have lost your child." Harry and Draco sobered at the news. Draco knew Harry would not be too thrilled about the idea of a guard, and he was right.

"I don't need people watching me…I'll be more alert from now on."

"No, Mr. Potter. I will not let you endanger this baby. I am insisting that you set up a small group of seventh years you trust to look out for you. In fact, this group should look out for you even after your daughter is born, as you will no doubt be distracted by her. I have no doubt that you can take very good care of yourself, but you have another person to worry about now. You can't just take whatever is thrown at you. If you hadn't shielded your baby, she would be dead right now."

Harry frowned in confusion. "Shielded?" he asked. "I didn't even see the curse coming, let alone have time to shield myself…"

"And I didn't have time to react either," Draco agreed.

Madame Pomfrey frowned as well. "Well, some sort of shield was thrown up. I have no doubt that part of it was your own magic protecting your child…but are you sure you didn't cast anything?"

"Maybe someone else did," Harry suggested. "I couldn't even think after the curse hit me. I couldn't do anything about it." The Mediwitch shrugged.

"Whoever cast that shield was quick about it, and you owe them," she said after a moment. "Anyways, let's get you back to your rooms. You've had far too much excitement for today."

Hermione, Pansy, and Blaise stepped forward, followed by a few seventh years. "We've found a few people we can trust, to help protect you, Harry," Hermione said softly. "We'll get you back to your rooms now."

Harry looked over the small crowd. Seamus, Dean, Neville, Luna, Cho…they were all friends he knew and trusted. Even Lavender Brown and Ernie Macmillan had shown up. He suddenly spotted Ginny, who, though she was a sixth year, had decided she wanted to help as well.

"Ginny," he said softly, not having spoken with her very often since Ron's death, and especially since his own. She'd been avoiding him for some reason, and now he was confused as to why she was suddenly joining the group.

She looked up at him, a small, sad smile on her face as they briefly remembered their fallen brother and friend. Then she moved forward and gently hugged him, patting his enlarged stomach when she couldn't fully wrap her arms around him. "Someone always comes between us," she teased, referring to her past crush on him. Harry was about to say something when she shrugged. "I'm over that, Harry. Now, I just want to be your friend."

"Why are you volunteering to be one of my bodyguards?" Harry asked, not liking the sound of the word 'bodyguards'. "You didn't want to talk to me much after…we lost Ron, and after I married Draco…"

"I lost you once, Harry. I'm not losing you again, and if you were to lose this baby, then I might as well have lost you," she said quietly. "Every time I see you, it hurts, because you remind me of what I lost. I lost a brother, and I lost you to Draco…I didn't want to be reminded of everything I'd lost. But now…I realize that by avoiding you, I'd already lost you." She shrugged, blushing from self-conciousness. Harry gave her a smile.

"Well, I'm glad you're talking to me again," he grinned. "Welcome back, Gin."

Draco had been watching the exchange, and he felt bad. Here, this girl had known and befriended Harry long ago…and had let him steal her heart. To have the very enemy of Harry Potter swoop in, and seemingly steal him from her…it had to have been painful. Draco admired her for her strength. When Ginny turned her eyes to him, he gave her a slow nod, thanking her for letting Harry go without a fight. She blinked, showing him she understood.

A thick Irish accent broke the silence. "Harry, we best be gettin' you back," Seamus said, clapping a hand to Harry's shoulder. "Dumbledore will be wantin' to inspect this place, and you sure don' want those Aurors asking a bunch o' questions, eh mate?"

Harry nodded. "Good thinking," he agreed.

"I think we should have a name for our little group," Luna said dreamily, speaking up. Everyone turned to look at her. "Well, we had a name for the D.A. So why not for this? Like…Harry's Army, or something even better."

"I think it's a good idea," Neville piped up quickly. "And we could set up a sort of system, where if we thought something was up, we could say a code word to alert the others…and we can set up shifts, so we're not all crowding around Harry…"

Draco looked at Harry, nodding. "I actually like it. How about we discuss this in our rooms, where we're less likely to be overheard?"

They all agreed, and so, with a little circle forming around Harry and Draco, they took off for the rooms.

•••

"Luna, Neville, Seamus and Dean will take the first shift," Draco read, glancing at the paper they'd organized everything on. "Cho, Ginny, Lavender and Ernie, you take the second shift. And Pansy, Blaise and Hermione, you three will join me in the all-around shift. At least one of us will be around at all times. The other two shifts, you listen to these three if they tell you to do something, okay?" Everyone nodded.

"Now…Luna, you suggested a name, and Neville, you suggested a certain phrase or word?" Both nodded. "Alright. Any name ideas? We've already got Harry's Army…"

"Too similar to the D.A.," said Dean. "I think we need something more original."

"The Guardians?" suggested Lavender.

"But we aren't Guardians," Hermione pointed out. "What about Sirena's Shield?"

Draco looked at her. "Nah, too out-there," he said smoothly, giving her a warning look. No one else outside of their small group knew about Sirena.

"Sirena? Where did you come up with that?" asked Ernie. Hermione shrugged.

"Just like the sound of it," she covered.

"What about Potter's Angels of Life?" Ginny commented. "P.A.L., for short. And that could be our alert phrase. Like, 'hey, pal'," she continued, shrugging.

"I like it," Luna murmured. "Only, 'pal'? It would be too obvious if others knew our group's name. I don't think the phrase should be 'pal'."

"Well, first, let's agree on a name," Draco interrupted.

"What about the Marauders?" Hermione suggested. Harry turned to her sharply. "To honor your father, Harry…I mean, we are protecting the next generation…it would be a tribute to your father, and how his legacy lives on in you, and will live on in your daughter, because of his sacrifice, and the sacrifices you made." Harry's eyes softened, as Draco put an arm around him.

"I like it," the blonde stated softly.

"As do I," Luna agreed, nods from the others accompanying her words.

"The Marauders it is, then," Harry said, ending the search for a name. "Now, a word or phrase…"

"Something we wouldn't say normally," Draco put in. "Otherwise we might accidentally say it…"

"But others would notice it," Pansy noted. "It has to be something we wouldn't normally say, but it can't be too odd either."

"What about Snuffles?" It was Hermione's turn to whip her head over to Harry. This time, he shrugged. "If we're named after a legacy, I say we use a legacy as an alert phrase."

"It's odd, but I don't think many would notice if we used it as if we were referring to a person," Hermione mused. "Yes, I think it would work."

"What is Snuffles?" asked Cho.

"Snuffles was my godfather's nickname," Harry said quietly. Draco tightened his grip on Harry comfortingly. The room fell silent, as each remembered the people lost in the war. Harry could see his godfather, smiling, before he fell into the Veil. He could see the silvery form of his Patronus, just like the Animagus form of his father. He could see the mirror of Erised in his mind. He could see the forms of his parents appear in the graveyard, as he promised to take Cedric's body back with him. The deaths he had seen, and indirectly caused began to haunt him, and his eyes dulled slightly. A shake to his shoulder roused him from the memories, and he found himself lost in the silvery grey of Draco's eyes.

"They would all be proud of you," Draco whispered in Harry's ear. "I know I am. None of it was ever your fault…you only put an end to it all." Raising his voice, he said, "It's a good alert phrase. So, the Marauders are now in place, and should the name Snuffles be mentioned at any time, all of you should be on alert. In an emergency, all of you will need to join Harry and me, so we can protect him."

After assigning times for the shifts to switch, and promising to talk with Dumbledore about switching their schedules around, Draco and Harry allowed everyone to leave. Before they left, however, Hermione held up a handful of fake Galleons triumphantly.

"Remember these?" she laughed. "Still useful. I've charmed these so that Harry and Draco can let the on-duty Marauders know that they are leaving their rooms, so that the others can do their duties. That way, you two can have your own time, and we can rest assured knowing you two can call on us at any time. Just rub the coins once clockwise, while thinking the names of the Marauders on duty, and that will warm up the selected Galleons and call them. Rub the coins three times counterclockwise, and all of the Galleons will turn ice cold, indicating an emergency." Draco nodded, as she passed out Galleons to everyone. "Don't lose these…"

"We won't," Dean promised, as he and Seamus left with Luna and Neville to discuss their ideas for how to perform their best when on duty. The second shift soon left, leaving the final five in the room.

"I feel better, now that we have a guard set up," Draco murmured, leaning back against the couch. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I feel so babied," he muttered. "I hate having to depend on people when I can take perfectly good care of myself." Before Draco could even respond, he sat up straighter. "I'm hungry…I feel like a mustard and sardine sandwich…with garlic sprinkled over it. Anyone feel like joining me?" He glanced around at the now-disgusted expressions everyone wore. "What?"

"How can you even want that, much less be able to eat it?" Blaise asked, shuddering. Harry shrugged.

"It's these bloody cravings. They seem pretty tasty to me though," he replied. Draco made a face, but stood anyways.

"I'll go down to the kitchens. You stay here with the others."

Harry protested, but at a look from Draco, decided to just go with it. He watched unhappily as Draco left.

•••

Draco sucked in a breath. One of the house elves had handed him a letter, along with the sandwich Harry wanted. "Where did you get this?" he demanded.

"From the kitchen, Mister Potter. We made it with the best ingredients we had…"

"Not the sandwich, the letter!"

The house elf stared curiously at the letter. "Pipsy doesn't know, sir," she squeaked. "Pipsy is trying to remember, but she has bad memory, see, and she can't remember…Pipsy should be punished." Draco lunged for the house elf and stopped her before she could whack her head against the wall. Must have been a rescue from a Wizarding family, he noted. Most of the Hogwarts elves didn't ever punish themselves.

"No, Pipsy, you're fine," he said, distractedly. Someone had given her the letter, then had Obliviated her. No wonder the poor creature couldn't remember. "I just wanted to know. If you do remember, can you come tell me?" The house elf nodded vigorously, her ears flopping and her tennis ball eyes even larger.

"Pipsy swears, Mister Potter. She swears to come find you if she remembers, she does." He thanked the house elf, before leaving the kitchens. Pausing a moment, he glanced around, then opened the letter.

_Draco,_

_I grow tired of these games. You will come to me, or I will do things that will make you regret ever disobeying me. You got lucky this time, but next time, neither your child nor your husband will survive…this I will ensure. My spy informed me that you might have spotted them as they fled after attacking your husband…pity. Now you are on alert…_

_If you want to protect your pathetic excuse of a family, you will leave them, and rejoin me. We can go place, Draco. Potter is only holding you back, with these silly visions of 'true love'. Better watch your back, my son…because the next time my spy attacks, you won't expect it. And it will be the worst moment of your life._

_You can close your eyes, and pretend it goes away…but this time, the nightmare will not fade._

_Lucius Sceleris Malfoy_

Draco shut his eyes, swallowing thickly. Time was running out…he would have to find this spy, or else lose the very reason for his existence.


	12. Chapter 12: Attack and Arrival

Four months down, one to go. The baby could come at any time. Harry groaned, as he moved slowly towards the room he shared with Draco. Everything hurt – his back, his knees, his feet…

"You okay?" Draco asked, concerned. Harry nodded.

"Just the weight. It's killing me," he complained. "And my feet are swollen again. It's such an annoyance."

"Just one more month, and you'll be there," Luna said encouragingly. Pansy and Hermione nodded, and all three girls shared a look of excitement.

"Have you decided on an name yet, Harry?" Seamus asked, cocking his head.

Harry shrugged. "Draco and I have talked about it, but we're not really sure."

"Got any name ideas then?"

"Well, we were thinking Lily Narcissa, or Alaina Isolde," Draco said after a moment, wrinkling his nose. "I wanted something a bit more…finessed. Like Catriona. Or Lynneth."

"But Lily was my suggestion," Harry said happily. "And since Lily and Narcissa were our mothers' names, we kind of wanted to honor their memory."

Hermione cocked her head. "I like it, actually," she said after a moment. "Since both are flower names, it kind of has an innocent, delicate quality…"

"Are you going to have any more kids after this one, Harry?" Luna asked. Draco and Harry shared a look.

"I honestly don't know," Harry admitted. "I really want a son, to be honest. But the idea of being a parent terrifies me. I'm not sure if I'm ready for one kid. To have two kids…that's too much right now. I'm too young for this…maybe later."

"What about nicknames?" Dean suggested. "You always have to have a nickname for a kid."

Harry was about to speak, when suddenly, Blaise spoke up. "I think Snuffles would be a nice nickname," he said suddenly and meaningfully. Instantly, the group shifted closer to Harry, as Draco leaned over to Blaise.

"Where?" he whispered.

"The corridor to our left…someone just disappeared. I couldn't see their face because of their hood. I figured, no one wears a hood indoors," Blaise replied in an equally quiet whisper. Draco nodded, indicating a job well done, then continued speaking as if everything was normal, all the while moving slowly towards the corridor, motioning to the others to stay where they were.

"Snuffles is a good idea," he said nonchalantly. "Seems kinda cute, but I don't know if it's a proper nickname for our child…" His hand was on the coin in his pocket, ready to alert the rest of the Marauders, as he suddenly jumped around the corner of the corridor.

A startled gasp signaled the surprise of the spy, and Draco lunged to grab the figure's cloak.

But it was too dark, and too late to catch a glimpse of anything. Draco watched helplessly, as the person rounded the far corner and disappeared, leaving him with a nondescript black cloak in his hand. Something silver fell from the cloak, and Draco knelt to pick it up. His heart started racing, as he realized how much closer the near-attack would have been to claiming Harry.

In his hand lay a heavy, poisoned dart.

•••

"Whoever it is, is getting closer," Hermione murmured, studying the dart, careful not to prick herself with the tip. Liquid could be heard sloshing around inside, testimony to the venom it contained. They'd already cast a few spells over it to determine the true contents. "And your father has to be supplying them. How many people can afford basilisk venom?"

"Why does your father want Harry dead?" Ernie asked, frowning. The rest of the Marauders had quickly run to the room, having been alerted by the Galleons.

"Because he wants me to rejoin him," Draco growled, pacing. "He wants to bring Voldemort back, and he wants me as his Heir." They all shuddered at the name of Voldemort.

"But he can't do that…can't bring You-Know-Who back…can he?" Ernie asked in a near whisper.

"There is a lot of Dark magic out there," Harry interjected. "I wouldn't be surprised if there's a spell to bring back Voldemort."

"But surely Death wouldn't allow it," Pansy argued.

"That's what we hope," Harry sighed. "But Death is an odd guy. I don't really know what he would or wouldn't allow. He might allow it just to mess up my life." He scowled.

"Yep. Your father is behind this," Hermione announced suddenly. They all turned to look at her. "His initials are on this. L.S.M."

"Any other marks to help us figure out who was going to throw it?" Draco inquired. Hermione shook her head.

"Just your father's initials, and a short message." Hermione paled, as she read it. Draco leaned over her shoulder to read it for himself, when she didn't respond.

"'This time, the nightmare won't fade…you will be mine, my son.'" Draco paled as well, before running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"I've got to find this spy," he growled. "And soon. I swear, if I catch him…no, _when_ I catch him…I'm going to make him regret ever attacking my Inima." A gentle, soothing touch on his arm drew his attention, and he looked over to see Harry standing with one hand on his belly.

"It's alright, Draco…I'm alright. Our daughter is fine too…don't worry. Once our daughter is born, then there won't be as much of a chance of your father getting to her, because I'll be prepared too. Just relax…" Harry brushed his lips across Draco's cheek, wanting to soothe him.

_I love you, Draco…nothing is going to happen…_

Draco swallowed thickly, looking down at the pendant around his neck. The eyes of the serpent were slowly darkening as the weeks passed by. Death would stop at nothing to get Harry back, he realized.

•••

No more attacks had occurred in the weeks leading up to the end of the fifth month. Harry would give birth any day now, so the Marauders were all careful to keep an eye on him, ready to run for Madame Pomfrey.

Finally, the day came. It started out ordinary. Harry, having grown too tired and heavy to walk down to the Great Hall every meal, was in the middle of lunch when he felt the first ripple in his stomach. Draco eyed him, as Harry grimaced. "What is it?" he asked.

"She's kicking," Harry murmured happily. "She's a strong one…really strong. There she goes again," he continued, grimacing. "That one hurt." His face paled, as he recognized the signs. "Draco…I think it's time," he said, his voice slightly panicky now.

This time, Draco saw the contraction, and suddenly realized what it was. "Let's get you to our bed," he said, his hands starting to shake. Harry stood obediently, but couldn't move very fast. He finally made it to the doorway of their bedroom, and grasped the door frame with white-knuckled fingers as another contraction swept over him.

"Hurts," he gasped.

"I know, Harry, I know," Draco said in a thin voice. He helped Harry onto the bed, murmuring about calling the others. "Stay here," he ordered a groaning Harry, before dashing outside. He quickly called for Pansy, Hermione, and Blaise to stay with Harry, and sent a message to the rest of the Marauders that the baby was on its way. Hermione showed up not a few minutes later, her own face mirroring Draco's with worry. "He's in our room," Draco quickly explained. "The baby's coming…I'm off to get Madame Pomfrey."

With that, he took off running, leaving Hermione to enlighten the others of what was going on.

Madame Pomfrey was in the middle of administering headache relieving potion to one fourth year student, when Draco suddenly burst through the doors of the infirmary. "Madame Pomfrey, come quick!" he gasped. "Harry…he's going into labor…"

The Mediwitch straightened, handed the flask to the student and ordered her to drink it, before rushing towards her office quickly to grab supplies. "How far apart are the contractions?" she asked, calling over her shoulder.

"I don't know…they aren't very far apart…they just started, but they were coming pretty quickly…"

"Any chance of getting him down here?"

"No, ma'am. He could barely get to the bed." Draco was all but bouncing in place with anxiety. The fourth year stared up at him with wide eyes, but he ignored her, just wanting Madame Pomfrey to hurry.

Soon enough, they were racing down the corridors, students stopping to stare. Rarely had anyone ever seen the Mediwitch running…something _had_ to be going on. Whispers barely reached Draco's ears, as they hurried past.

"It's the baby…"

"It's gotta be…why else would they be running?"

"The baby's on its way!"

Excitement filled the students faces, and some began to make their way towards the seventh floor corridor. But as Draco and Pomfrey entered the room, all of the Marauders but Hermione, Pansy, and Blaise were standing guard, keeping the curious onlookers away, and instructing them to leave. Cho, Ginny, and Ernie, all prefects, threatened the students with detention if they didn't leave soon.

Braeden MacDougal, a seventh year Ravenclaw and the Head Boy, stepped forward, and began to assist with sending the crowd of students away. "I'll give you all thirty seconds to clear out, or I'm going to start handing out detentions with Snape," he snapped. That had an immediate effect on all, even the Slytherins. Within moments, the crowd had reluctantly dispersed, and soon the corridor was empty. Braeden turned back to the Marauders.

"So, Potter's having the baby?" he asked, cocking his head curiously. "I do hope everything goes alright…it would be a right shame if something bad happened. We're all rooting for him. How's Malfoy doing?"

"_Draco_ is doing just fine," Ginny said coolly. Honestly, people still called Draco by his previous surname. What was so difficult about calling him Potter? "And yes, Harry's having the baby. That's why Madame Pomfrey is in there. Everything should be going smoothly."

Braeden gave a small smile, nodded to the Marauders, then walked off, whistling cheerfully.

"Harry or Draco should have been made Head Boy," Ernie commented. "Not him. Barely anyone knows him. But supposedly he's like Hermione, but in male form. Maybe they should get together." He smirked, as Dean and Seamus sniggered.

"One Hermione is all this school needs," Seamus added.

"Although, she _did_ make Head Girl this year…" Dean pointed out. He and Seamus shared a mischievous grin.

"I think it'd be quite amusing if they ever got together," Ernie agreed. "Head Girl and Head Boy…no surprise there."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Boys," she muttered.

•••

While Seamus, Dean, and Ernie continued to make jokes about Hermione and Braeden, Draco was busy pacing the common room. Madame Pomfrey had made him leave the bedroom as soon as she'd seen his pale face and trembling hands, instead calling upon Hermione's book knowledge to help her with Harry.

Every time the door open, Draco would start and whirl around, his hopeful expression falling each time he saw that it was only Hermione, racing for towels, racing for hot water, racing for whatever else it was she needed. Once, she dashed out, ordered Blaise to run for Snape, then returned to Madame Pomfrey's side.

All the while, pain and fear flowed through the emotional link from Harry, to the point where Draco had to sever the connection, lest he go insane from worry.

"It's been far too long," he muttered, as Blaise and Snape burst through the door. Snape carried a satchel with him, filled with potions of all sorts. As he passed through, he tossed a vial to Pansy.

"Give it to Draco," he demanded, before disappearing into the bedroom.

Draco took the vial, barely recognizing it as Calming Draught, before gulping it down. While it helped some, it didn't stop the pacing.

"Draco, mate, relax…Harry's got the best help he can get…don't worry," Blaise soothed.

"But what if everything isn't okay?" Draco asked, panicking. "What if he dies? What if our daughter dies? What if-"

"Stop it, Draco, you'll make yourself sick," Pansy snapped. "You won't do Harry any good by worrying. Come on, sit down and relax."

Draco shook his head, giving a short, "No," and continued his path back and forth. Both of his friends sighed impatiently, as a particularly loud cry of pain issued from behind the closed door. Faint voices could be heard. Pomfrey giving quick, frantic instructions…Snape calling to Harry to take a certain potion…

Come on, Harry, you can do it…

Stay with me, Harry…

Harry! Come on….

Draco finally sat heavily on the couch, clasping his hands over his ears, as he rocked back and forth. _Harry…please, please, _please_ be alright,_ he cried silently.

Another piercing wail…this time higher pitched than normal. Draco's head shot up, as Hermione burst into the room.

"She's here!" Hermione crowed. "Harry's made it…and so did the baby! Oh, Draco, come see…she's the most precious thing…"

Draco was already shoving past her. The first thing he noticed was the blood staining the towels, which was cause for concern, but the smiles on Pomfrey's face and even Severus' indicated that blood was to be expected. His eyes fell on Harry's tired, but happy expression, and he immediately dropped to Harry's side, kissing his Inima's forehead. A soft cry alerted him to the new addition, and Draco dropped his gaze.

Hermione was right.

The child that he saw was tiny. She was wrapped in a soft towel, and nestled close in Harry's arms. Porcelain perfect skin, tinged pink with new life, his daughter was every bit as precious and beautiful as Hermione described her. Wisps of white blonde hair covered her head, and as she blinked, Draco caught sight of her briliant green eyes. Harry shifted, and his daughter once more gave a loud wail, unhappy at being disturbed. "Sit, so you can hold her," Harry urged, the grin on his face completely lighting up his features. His eyes glowed with content exhaustion.

Draco stared down at the tiny bundle in his husband's arms. She was so small…smaller than many of the other babies he'd seen. What if he dropped her?

"You won't drop her," Harry said soothingly, and Draco realized that Harry had heard the thought. "Don't worry…nothing's going to happen…c'mon, hold your kid." He smirked, as Draco sat down slowly. Dazedly, Draco accepted the warm, squirming baby from Harry, holding her close to his body. His heart suddenly blossomed with affection, for both Harry and his new daughter, as he bent his head nearer to her, to rub his cheek against her softer one. She smelled fresh and clean, in that special way only a baby could, and he felt a sudden rush of a need to protect.

His father was trying to destroy his family…he was going to try to hurt his precious daughter. Draco clutched her to himself gently. No way would his father ever get to her. Not while he still breathed.

Was he ready for this? Were they ready to become parents?

_Little late to be asking that question,_ a teasing voice said. Draco looked up, to see Harry's reassuring smile, as he leaned back against the pillows. _We'll just take it one day at a time…_

Draco smiled, shifting until he was practically lying next to Harry, settling their daughter between them so both could see her clearly. Harry stretched out his hand, as she latched one tiny hand around his finger tightly, and a soft smile spread over both Draco and Harry's faces.

"We can do this," Harry whispered. "We have to…for Lily."

Draco looked down at their child. She was theirs…their precious Lily Narcissa Potter. Right now, they were safe, safe from the darkness that had plagued their past, and continued to plague them, safe from those that wanted to hurt them. Right now was key, and soon, the present would become the past, and their future with their daughter, and maybe other children, would become the future. Neither of them had ever dared imagine it was possible, but now, they were looking on a whole new future.


	13. Chapter 13: Next Objective

"She's so tiny…"

Harry grinned up at Pansy, who was completely doe-eyed at the sight of the baby. "Most babies born of a wizard are smaller than normal," he explained, recalling Madame Pomfrey's words.

"What did you name her?"

"Lily Narcissa," Draco answered. Pansy nodded in understanding, before turning back to Lily.

"Hi, Lily," she said in a baby voice. "I'm so glad you finally came! We were waiting for you, weren't we, Blaise?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to talk to her like that…" he complained. At Pansy's glare, he sighed, and bent to look at Lily. "Hi, 'ickle Lily," he said brightly, mocking Pansy's tone. "Ow, I tried, alright?"

Pansy raised her hand threateningly again. "And I'll smack you again if you keep mocking me," she said with a mischievous grin.

"Hey, no bad behavior in front of my daughter," Harry laughed. "I want her to be a perfect angel, and you two aren't exactly the best examples right now…"

"Hah! With you and Draco as parents?" Blaise snorted. Pansy smacked him again. "Ow, bugger off, will you? I wasn't mocking you this time…"

"But you were being mean nonetheless," Pansy sniffed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, Harry, Lily will grow up as sweet as can be." She eyed Pansy and Blaise. "Even with their bickering."

"Glad to have someone sensible around," Draco commented. "I think we made a good choice in godparents, despite my reservations now…"

Pansy and Blaise stilled, then turned to look at him. Both Harry and Draco were smiling. "What?" Blaise said slowly.

"Harry and I wanted Hermione and Blaise to be godparents," Draco continued.

"So what do you say?" Harry glanced around at them. "Will you be godparents, Blaise, Hermione?"

"Pansy, we didn't forget you," Draco assured her. "You're already the candidate for our next child's godmother."

"Another one?" Pansy groaned. "I have to be a godmother? That makes me sound old!" She grinned, and winked. "That's fine by me. I can wait my turn."

"Blaise and I would be happy to be Lily's godparents," Hermione beamed. Blaise nodded, a smile etched on his face.

"Great!" Harry grinned as he shifted positions, causing Lily to blink and let out a small wail. Draco made a face as Harry tried to calm her down, and stood.

"Not looking forward to the constant cries for attention," he sighed. "But for now…"

"Draco, could you-?"

"On my way." Harry grinned as the blonde left to go get a bottle from the kitchen, where Madame Pomfey had been kind enough to stock a few months' worth of baby formula for Lily. Harry was still too weak to do much more than walk from the bedroom to the common room and back, exhausted from Lily's birth two days before. Soon, Draco returned, and held out the bottle to Harry.

"Anybody want to feed her?" Harry asked. Hermione let out a quiet squeal of excitement, and raced over to the bed, sitting beside Harry, as Lily was handed over to her.

"She's so light," Hermione commented, cuddling Lily in her arms. "Like a little teddy bear." She took the bottle from Draco, and began to feed Lily, smiling broadly the entire time.

As Pansy waited her turn to feed Lily, Blaise sat in a chair, watching them. "Any nicknames?" he asked. "Or are you just going with Lily?"

"Well, so far we've come up with Cissy, and there's all sorts of ways to shorten Lily, so I think she's set on names," Harry replied, watching as Hermione fed his daughter. "I'm not planning on calling her Angelface, or anything like that." He grimaced, as did Draco.

"Merlin, no. I will not be calling her anything cutesy. Only a sensible nickname will do," he agreed. Harry tossed a pillow at him.

"No need to sound so stuck up," his Inima laughed. Draco huffed, and pretended to ignore him, though the upward tilt of the corners of his mouth gave him away. Pansy drew their attention with a quiet squeal. Hermione had just handed Lily to her.

"Can I keep her?" Pansy pleaded. "I love babies…"

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, but she's all ours." He grinned at her, chuckling when she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Git."

"Hey, watch your mouth around our daughter. First trying to teach her to hit men, then teaching her to be rude and insulting?" Draco winked, and Pansy sniffed, before looking down at the baby in her arms.

"Fine…but I get to babysit sometimes."

"Alright by me," Harry said good-naturedly. "But we'll have to figure out how to get you to your classes as well. I'm thinking of just dropping out. I've already learned everything I need…"

"No, I think you should stay in school," Draco interrupted, frowning. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have a decent solution. Maybe early testing, if you think you're ready, but I don't want you to drop out. Doesn't look good."

"And since when do I care what others think?"

"Touché. But it's not a good example for Lily either." That shut Harry's mouth, and he sighed, before shrugging, giving his agreement.

"How are you going to protect her when one or both of you is away?" asked Blaise, suddenly changing the topic. "I am definitely in on protecting her, but even still…your father is still trying to mess with you, Draco. I think we should discuss our options."

Draco rubbed the back of his neck. "I honestly have no plan," he admitted. "I was so focused on protecting Harry during the pregnancy, I had no energy left over to devote to after she'd been born."

"I think the Marauders can continue to do their job," Harry mused. "Except, their priority is to protect Lily, while you and I continue to try to take out the spy. We five should focus our energies on figuring out who the spy is."

Draco nodded. "Good idea. I already have a few theories, and I've definitely got my eye on a few choice Slytherins. That cloak I managed to grab was made of a more expensive material than ordinary cloaks, leading me to believe the owner is a Pureblood, or very wealthy. Not many Muggleborns have the money for the quality of fabric the cloak was made of, and I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary from most of the Halfbloods. My guess is it is a Pureblood Slytherin."

"Why so focused on blood status?" Hermione asked.

"Because most Muggleborns and Halfbloods are favorable towards Harry, and hate my father or aunt because of their Death Eater status." Draco shrugged. "After all, Harry did defeat the Dark lord, who was prejudiced against all Muggleborns, and many Halfbloods."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Makes sense."

"So our next objective should be to keep an eye on these specific Slytherins?" Blaise asked. Draco nodded.

"I'll let you two know later who I think are our main suspects, and see what you guys think," he said, glancing between Pansy and Blaise. "Sorry, Hermione, Harry, but you guys don't know the Slytherins like we do." Harry and Hermione both agreed he had a point. "Anyways, we'd better let the Marauders know of their new status."

He pulled out a Galleon, calling the Marauders to a meeting. As he and the others moved into the common room, Harry now cradling Lily in his arms, they heard a scuffle outside of the door. "Harry, get back into our bedroom," Draco ordered. Harry quietly obeyed, shutting himself and Lily into the small room, as Draco lunged towards the door and yanked it open, to reveal a sight that made him blink.

"Looks like we won't need to figure out which Slytherin it is anymore," he murmured to Pansy, Blaise, and Hermione, as all four of them leveled their wands at the figure grasped in the hands of the Marauders.


	14. Chapter 14: Of Spies and Family

**A/N: **Reviews are very much appreciated. ^^

* * *

Draco glared at the sixth year clasped tightly in the hands of the angry Marauders, and the boy glared back. "I should have known," Draco muttered, as the boy sneered at him. "Mason Harwin."

"Surprised, Malfoy?"

"That's Potter to you," Draco drawled, pleased by the scowl that deepened on the other's face.

"You're a filthy traitor, that's what you are," Mason snarled. "If it weren't for you, and your disgusting affections for that imbecile Potter, the Dark lord would have won, and the Death Eaters would have been honored above all others. You could have had glory and fame, traitor, but you threw it all away. You angered them, you know." He smirked at Draco. "You will pay for what you did, no doubt about it. Catching me will be but a minor setback. Don't let down your guard yet, Potter." He spat the name derisively.

"Who sent you?" Draco demanded, ignoring the empty threats for now.

"Who else? Your father of course."

Draco stepped forward, grabbing the other's jaw in an iron grip. Mason hissed with pain, but did not flinch. "He is not my father," Draco seethed. "That man tried to have my husband and my child killed. He is of no relation to me."

"Pity you share the same blood. At least you'll know how to raise your child properly. Make sure they learn some humility, eh? A little smack here, a Crucio there..." A crack echoed through the corridor, and Mason sagged in Neville and Dean's arms, pain momentarily stunning him. Draco shook his hand, the punch having sent a shockwave of tingles down his arm.

"I am not my father," he snapped in a deadly quiet voice. "If my father has taught me anything, it is how not to raise a child."

"But you'll probably end up acting like your father anyways," Mason retorted, a bit of blood dribbling from his split lip. He spat at Draco's feet. "It's how you were raised; it will spill over into your actions now. You can't escape that."

Draco's blood ran cold. Was Mason right? Would he end up unintentionally acting like his father? They shared the same blood after all, and Draco might have inherited his father's anger...

_No, Draco. You are better than him._

Harry's voice echoed softly in his mind, and Draco realized his Inima had been listening in for some time. Hearing Harry's reassurance soothed him somewhat, though he still wondered if he was worthy of the trust and faith Harry put in him.

_You are. You are my Inima, the man I married. You are gentle, and kind, and I have no doubt that you will be a great father to our Lily._

Draco smiled inwardly, grateful to Harry for his soft assurance, and grateful to Fate for ever having given him the chance at having such a wonderful Inima.

A brief struggle from Mason drew his attention, and Draco pulled out his wand. "You're in a school full of wizards and witches, and you try to escape from them?" Draco scoffed. "You're stupider than I thought."

"Obviously not as stupid as you," Mason cackled. "Like I said, I'm the least of your problems. Go on then, take me to Dumbledore. Throw me in Azkaban. I won't be there long." He sneered again, and worry again flowed over Draco. What did the Slytherin mean?

"I'm assuming you won't tell us anything about what your orders were?"

"Outside of trying to rid the world of that bloody Gryffindor and his filthy spawn? Nope."

"Do not talk of my daughter that way," Draco growled.

"Ooh, touchy subject, hm? What would happen if something were to happen to your precious cub? I imagine it would be a bit of a shock-"

This time, Draco's fist knocked him out, and Ernie and Seamus stepped forward to help bear the added dead weight. "Your father couldn't have picked a lighter spy?" Seamus groaned.

Draco waved him off. "At least we discovered the spy's identity. We should get him to Dumbledore. Did you take his wand?" Luna held up the oak wood wand.

"I also caught a glimpse of his left arm. It had a Dark mark on it," she said grimly. "I'm not surprised he was working for your father. He's one of them. Guess he wasn't at the big battle. Voldemort must not have trusted him as much."

Made sense. Draco had suspected Mason was a Death Eater. "Good. Alright, go ahead and bind him before taking him then. I'm going to go check on Harry." The four boys nodded, and leaving Pansy, Blaise, and Hermione to stay with Draco, the Marauders 'escorted' Mason down the hall.

"Who was it?" Harry asked, when they returned to Harry and Draco's common room.

"Mason Harwin, a rather shifty sixth year Slytherin I never liked nor trusted," Draco sighed. "I'm not surprised it was him. He was one of the suspects I had in mind."

They all sat, each silent for a moment. "So what now?" Harry asked. "I don't think this is over."

"You're probably right, but let's not get paranoid." Draco smiled down at Harry. "Now that the spy is out of the way, I think we can finally relax for a while." Harry nodded happily, cradling Lily in his arms.

"I think it's about time we were able to breathe easy," he agreed. "And the Marauders can have a rest at last."

"I daresay they will be disappointed," Hermione mused. "I think they were talking about continuing to keep watch, even though there isn't any obvious danger right now."

Harry frowned. "But I'd hate to ask them to do that," he murmured. "Draco and I can look out for ourselves and Lily just fine."

"But, Harry, I think they want to."

"Why? Don't they want to go back to the way things were?" Hermione shook her head, and Harry sighed. "We'll see then." He looked up at Draco, who shrugged slightly.

"Well, what about babysitters?" Again, the two boys looked at each other. Hermione smiled smugly. "Lucky for you, you have plenty of willing babysitters to look out for Lily if you need it."

"But I want her to be near me," Harry pouted, clutching his daughter protectively. Surprisingly, it was Draco who spoke next.

"Actually, it's a good idea." Harry's eyes shot up incredulously. Draco sighed. "Harry...there's something you need to do, and I don't think taking Lily along will be a good idea."

"What's that?"

"Something I hope to do someday. I want you to make peace with your family. Or in the very least, confront your uncle."

Harry's eyes widened, and Draco immediately felt the fear sweep over him. "I can't," Harry whimpered.

"I think you can," Draco said soothingly, wrapping his arm around Harry and holding him close. "I'll be there with you...Nothing bad will happen...I'll make sure of it."

Harry buried his face in Draco's shoulder, trying to keep his composure, as Hermione glanced at Pansy and Blaise. Each of them understood Harry's fear; they'd all heard the story at one point. Each felt sympathy as well. "Harry, I think it'll be good for you," Pansy spoke up softly. "It'll help you come to terms with your past...you won't want anything left unresolved in your past, if you want to be able to raise Lily properly."

Harry shuddered, but nodded silently, his face never leaving Draco's shoulder. The blonde sighed again, and rubbing soothing circles in Harry's back, murmuring comfort and encouragement.

Harry was going back to his childhood. This time, he would not be alone.


	15. Chapter 15: Tragedy Strikes

Two figures stood outside of an ordinary-looking house. People passing would glance over only to see what appeared to be two boys looking for a particular address. And so it was…

Only they knew exactly where the desired address was. The dilemma was garnering enough mental strength to bring themselves to go to the door.

"You ready for this?" Draco asked in a low murmuring, his voice comforting and calm. Harry was standing beside him, and was visibly trembling. "Hey." Draco put a hand on his Inima's shoulder. "Don't show your fear; it will give him the advantage over you. And don't worry…you have magic on your side this time…you can do wandless and nonverbal magic, and you have your Animagus form and your creature inheritance. You'll be fine."

"But-" A finger on his lips stopped Harry's words. Draco leaned forward, 'til his mouth was near Harry's ear.

"Trust me." The whispered words sent a shiver down Harry's spine, and he felt reassured. Draco wouldn't let anything happen to him…they protected each other. Everything was going to be okay. Taking a deep breath, Harry strode forward, flanked closely by Draco. With a gulp, he knocked on the wooden door, hearing the ominous echo within.

Silence.

Then…

Footsteps.

Footsteps in the corridor.

Footsteps behind the door.

Harry shuddered. A brief memory flickered through his mind.

_He was a tiny boy, not far past five years of age, and extremely underweight and undersized. His uncle loomed over him…pain…darkness…he retreated far into himself, where no one could reach him, no one could hurt him or touch him…_

The door creaked open, and Harry blinked at the sight of his aunt standing there. For a moment, they stared at each other, Petunia's mouth forming a perfect 'o'. Fear, some other emotion, then defiance flashed through her gaze, and her mouth became a thin, white line. "It's you," she said harshly. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes moved to Draco, then back to Harry.

"May we come in?" asked Draco quietly. The woman again glanced at him. His presence was commanding, demanding that she comply, lest he become angry. With a short incline of her chin, Petunia stepped back, allowing the two boys to enter. Harry managed to quell the trembling and the queasiness in his stomach.

"What are you doing here?" she repeated. Harry and Draco stepped into the house.

"Is your husband here?"

Petunia eyed Draco. "Yes. Stop avoiding my question."

"We'll answer it soon."

Petunia scowled, but led them down the hall. As he walked beside Draco, Harry felt the fear and bile rising up in his throat. He felt like he was going to be sick.

_Harry…relax. I'm here. He will never hurt you again._

Draco's calming presence soothed Harry, and he found himself slowly numbing to the pain. He shoved the feelings deep within his mind, forcing himself to remain calm.

Draco could still sense the emotion running throughout Harry, but his Inima seemed to be coping, as he had all those years. Just existing…coping…surviving.

Anger welled up in him. The muggle would pay, if he showed no remorse.

The sound of the television drew his attention, as they entered the kitchen area. A large man sat in front of the television, and he turned around as Petunia led the boys in.

"Petunia, what-?"

Vernon's eyes widened. As he recognized Harry, and saw the grim look on Draco's face, his face hardened. There was a brief flicker of something in his eyes, but it was quickly covered by the sneer. "Thought you'd never show your ugly mug around here again," he snarled, standing.

"Thought I'd never want to," Harry retorted sharply. Vernon looked surprised by the bold manner the boy spoke in. He thought the boy had been broken…guess not.

"What are you doing here then?"

"I came to make peace with my past." Harry strode closer into the room. Now that he was face to face with his uncle, he felt his fear fading away. He wasn't weak anymore…he was powerful. His uncle was the weak one. Anger, pain, loathing…it all faded away, as Harry gazed at the man. He was taller than Vernon now, and though he didn't have the weight of his uncle, he had muscle, and he had magic. He had his creature inheritance, and he had Draco.

And what did his uncle have? An overweight, useless son that was no doubt at school right now, if he hadn't dropped out, and a wife that was not as affectionate as she had once been. His uncle had nothing. And he had everything. Harry felt something he'd never imagined he'd ever feel – pity, and regret for his uncle.

"And how do you propose you'd do that?"

"By talking." Harry's quiet tone caused Vernon to shrink back a little, and the man waved a hand towards the couches.

"Then talk."

They all sat, and Harry was surprised at how quiet his aunt and uncle seemed. For having mistreated him and hated him so much, they were pretty laid-back about this. For a long time, nobody said anything. Then Harry spoke.

"I hated you, you know? From the moment I was left on your doorstep, you hated me as well. I was only a child, barely old enough to even make a sound. Aunt Petunia, I was your sister's only child; the least you could have done was care for me. You were supposed to. Most families have a sense of loyalty and affection for the other members of their family. I should have been loved, cared for, protected. Instead, I was hated, rejected, abused…and the most danger was not from the Dark lord, but from my own family. Even before I knew I was a wizard and supposed to defeat Voldemort…even before I knew why I'd had to be placed here…"

Petunia's brow furrowed. "Danger?" She dropped her gaze. "I know we mistreated you…but we would never physically hurt you. We never beat you…"

Harry could hear the remorse in her voice, and he knew it was genuine. She would be shocked by what he was going to say next. His green gaze was fixated on Vernon, who shifted uncomfortably. "No, Aunt Petunia. _You_ may not have ever hurt me," he said slowly, his voice becoming quieter. "But that doesn't mean I was never beaten." Her eyes widened, and she slowly slid her gaze over to her husband. "Yes. He beat me. On numerous occasions, when you weren't home. He even encouraged Dudley to beat me at times, as long as you weren't around. But that's not all he did."

His aunt was staring in shock at her husband, as his uncle's face twisted into anger. "He's lying," he snarled. "I never did any such thing."

"Aunt Petunia, you saw the bruises," Harry continued, meeting her eyes. She appeared horrified. "You assumed it was because of clumsiness…and I couldn't tell you the truth. I was too afraid." He looked down. "I was too afraid, because he kept threatening to do something else. Something he'd done before, and did many times even if I behaved."

His aunt was beginning to piece it together, but she seemed to refuse to believe her mind. "What did he do?" she whispered.

Harry's gaze came up, and locked onto Vernon, who blanched. "He raped me," Harry said, his voice steady and hard. A gasp emitted from his aunt.

"No…" she whimpered.

"Beginning when I first turned five, until Hagrid came on my eleventh birthday. He raped me for six years…and I couldn't do anything, couldn't tell anyone…couldn't escape." Harry's eyes began to shine with tears. "The very house I was told was there for my protection…had become a prison." His aunt's body began to shake with horrified sobs, and she scooted away from her husband.

"Petunia…he's lying…I would never-"

"Get away from me you bastard," she shrieked, flinching away from him as if he had burned her. "He was a pain to have to care for…he reminded me of all my failures, of how my parents had loved Lily more because she was a witch and I wasn't…of how Hogwarts refused to let me try to become a witch…but he was still family! He has my blood…he's my sister's son…and you…you…" She began to shake, with terror and anger at what a monster her husband was.

Vernon glared at Harry, standing up. "Get out of my house!" he roared at Harry, who also stood, his hand on his wand in his pocket. Draco stood as well, his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"No."

Though she was on the verge of hysteria, Petunia managed to say the word calmly, and she stood slowly, her face a mixture of disbelief, revulsion, and horror. "He has every right to be here," she hissed. "He shouldn't even have had the courage to face you…but he did. He is a far better man than you, Vernon. You are not the same man I married. I want _you_ to get out of _my_ house."

"I bought this house-"

"With the money I earned. That makes it my house. Now. Get. Out." Her finger was jabbed towards the door, and fury was quickly overcoming all other emotions. "Get out."

"Petunia-"

"GET OUT!" she screamed. "Get out or so help me I will call the police! I should have you arrested for child abuse! You bloody pedophile! Get out of my house! I will not stand to have you in my sight any longer! You sicken me…you are a disgrace to mankind! Get out!"

Vernon whirled around, his face livid. "This is all your fault!" he shouted, as Petunia fell back onto the couch, her body wracked with sobs. "I ought to teach you one more lesson, boy…"

Harry's courage failed him at the moment, as the familiar words sunk in, haunting him. "No…" he whispered. Vernon sensed the change, and a sneer came over his face. He grabbed Harry's arm, causing Harry to tense and attempt to shrink back.

Anger overcame Draco, and he went to grab his wand. Suddenly, a fist connected with his jaw, and Draco flew back, stars erupting in his vision. Vernon had released Harry momentarily, and he again punched Draco, this time knocking the blonde out. He turned back to Harry, who had retreated to a corner. "I'll teach you to mess with me," he snarled, moving closer.

"No…please…no!" Harry screeched, scrabbling to get away. But the walls were unyielding, and he couldn't move, as Vernon moved closer. "Nooo!" His wails became panic-stricken sobs, and he fought to keep the prying hands away from him. Vernon slapped the side of his head, dizzying and stunning him, and Harry collapsed, as a fist collided with his ribs. There was a loud crack, and a cry of pain from Harry, as Vernon chuckled coldly. He again punched the boy's midsection, earning another wail.

Suddenly, there was a loud crunch, and Vernon's face froze in the sneer he wore, as he crumpled to the side, lifeless. Petunia stood in his place, a bat held in her white-knuckled grasp. A red stain began spreading over the floor, originating from her husband's head. She seemed surprised by her strength, and Petunia glanced at the bat she wielded, staring at the bloody dent in her husband's temple, then at the semi-splintered bat. "I killed him," she whispered, aghast. "What have I done?"

Harry's whimpers reached her ears, and Petunia's heart broke. "Harry?" she murmured, dropping to her knees. The boy only shrieked, curling up into a painful ball, ignoring the stabs of pain from his chest as he retreated within himself. "Harry, I'm so sorry…I didn't know…"

The useless words hung from her lips. She heard a groan and turned around. The blonde boy was slowly sitting up, clutching his head. His eyes were dazed and slightly unfocused, but there was fear written on his face. "Harry?" he whispered.

Petunia stood, and went over to him. "He's safe now," she replied breathlessly. "But he won't let me touch him or anything, and I think he might have been hurt pretty badly. I couldn't stop my husband from beating him again…" Tears streaked down his face. "He needs help…can you help? Please…help him…"

Draco staggered to his feet, only hearing half of her words. Harry needed him… He all but ran over to Harry, who was now whimpering and rocking back and forth.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry," he chanted, his voice breaking. Draco's eyes burned, and he dropped by his Inima's side. He'd failed Harry…

"I promised I wouldn't let him touch you," Draco whispered brokenly. "Harry…please…forgive me…I'm sorry…Harry, come back to me…it's alright…"

As he touched Harry's shoulder, the boy again screeched with fear, shrinking away from the touch. Draco stood, his heart pounding. "I'm going to go get help," he said hollowly. "Stay with him…I'll be right back."

He Apparated, leaving Petunia to stare at the body of her husband, face still frozen in a sneer, as her nephew, her sister's son, attempted to escape his nightmares.

•••

Minutes later, ten people filled the living room of the Dursley home. Two Aurors talked with the distraught Petunia, learning what had happened, and retrieving her memories of the incident, before discussing the horrific events in quiet tones. Madame Pomfrey was sitting beside Harry, running diagnostic tests that wouldn't require anyone touching Harry, and attempting to calm him down long enough to drink the Dreamless Sleep potion. A pale and trembling Draco was being comforted by Hermione, Blaise and Pansy. Two more Aurors were cleaning up the mess, and deciding what to do with the body.

At long last, Harry quieted enough to drink the potion, sending him to sleep. Madame Pomfrey straightened, her face grave. "Mr. Potter," she said quietly, addressing Draco. Petunia started at the name, eyeing Draco sharply. "I'm afraid this had been quite a traumatic experience for Harry. I would recommend taking him down to St. Mungo's for a little while, just so he can rest and recover."

"This is all my fault," Draco moaned, burying his head in his hands. "I thought it would be good for him to make peace with his uncle…I didn't think…"

"It's not your fault," the Mediwitch interrupted. "It was a good idea. None of us could have guessed that his uncle would have reacted like that."

"I should have brought backup…"

"Stop it, Draco!" He looked up at Hermione, whose expression was anguished. "It wasn't your fault, and it does no one any good to say otherwise. It was an accident…Harry will recover, won't he?" They all looked up at Pomfrey, who sighed.

"I…I don't know," she admitted. "He was pretty bad there for a little while…Harry's strong, but I'm not sure if he's strong enough this time. Draco, you need to be there for him when he finally awakes…he's going to need you now, more than ever."

"What about Lily?" he whispered. Hermione touched his shoulder softly.

"The Marauders will look after her," she murmured. "Pansy and I will make sure of it."

He nodded. "Let's get him to St. Mungo's."

"Draco?" He looked back to Madame Pomfrey. Her face was sympathetic. "You need to be prepared for…the worst case scenario."

"What's that?" His throat was dry, and his voice was cracked.

"This may cause Harry to change completely…in some cases, it can cause memory reversion. The person forgets everything that happened up to a certain point, and reverts back to a certain age. Harry can revert to being a toddler again, before any of this happened. It's a way for the mind to defend itself."

"What do you mean?" _No…no no NO!_

"It means Harry could forget you…could forget what you mean to him. It means Harry might never be the same again.


	16. Chapter 16: The Forgotten

"So…you're married to him?"

Draco looked down at the woman beside him. Petunia had been allowed to accompany him to St. Mungo's, as he had promised to vouch for her. Since she was Harry's aunt, and former guardian, there wasn't much protest. Dudley had been sent off to a boarding school as punishment for how he had treated Harry at his father's bidding. The boy had been secretly pleased to get away from his overbearing mother, though he put up quite an uproar when he'd heard the news. The news of his father's death quieted him though.

Now, Petunia was staying at the Weasley's, a fact she was a bit uncomfortable with given the exuberance of Mrs. Weasley at having a new guest to look after. She didn't have to spend much time there, however, as every morning, an Auror dropped by to bring her to St. Mungo's, as requested.

She was adjusting well, considering she was a Muggle in a Wizarding World. But she knew a surprising amount about wizards, no doubt stemming from having a witch for a sister.

After a few days' time, however, she had begun to question Draco. Why had he come with Harry? Why was he so concerned about the boy? And why was it best for him to remain by Harry's side as much as possible?

It had come out. Draco had recounted the events that had transpired the past year. Harry and him becoming friends. His capture. Harry's rescue of him. Their growing affections, and the knowledge that they might be Inima. How it was when they learned they were. Finally…he told about their marriage, and how later that night, Harry won the war, sacrificing himself in the process. Draco explained how he had managed to travel to the Land of the Dead, describing Sirena and her guidance, and how he had brought Harry back. Petunia had taken it all in quietly, and with a calm Draco admired.

"Yes," he said quietly, looking back through the window that allowed him to see Harry. "We're married." His Inima lay there, so lifeless, the only sign of life the glowing numbers that were up on the board by his bed. Occasionally, the numbers would shift then go back. A faint beeping could be heard when in the room, as his vitals were magically monitored. A Mediwitch moved around inside the room, writing down the data and checking things over, before exiting.

"Any change?" Draco asked desperately. The Mediwitch shook her head apologetically, as she continued down the hall.

"You really love him, don't you?" Petunia murmured. Draco nodded, his eyes pained. "Normally, in the world I live in…the Muggle world…we aren't as tolerant of same-sex couples. It's odd, to hear you speak of him like that…but it's also nice."

"Love is love. Doesn't matter if I was a girl, or if Harry was a girl, and the other was male. We'd still love each other. This is a love that transcends any boundaries. I wouldn't give it up for anything," Draco sighed.

"But what about kids? Will you adopt?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well…there's this man that wants Harry dead, so that I'll come to see his way of life. He thought that if Harry became pregnant, it might push me to join him. So he slipped Harry a fertility potion, and well…let's just say male pregnancy among wizards is not impossible." Petunia's mouth slipped open.

"You have a natural born kid?" she gasped.

"Lily Narcissa Potter," he said, somewhat proudly. "She's a beautiful little girl a little less than a month old…"

"Where is she?"

His face dropped. "Our friends are looking after her, until we can get Harry back." Petunia patted his arm comfortingly.

"We'll get him back…then I'd like to see your daughter…if you're okay with that," she said nervously.

"Of course I'm okay with it. I'm glad you're okay with the whole thing, actually. I think it will be good for Harry to finally receive acceptance from you. You're the closest person he has to his mother. He'll need you."

She opened her mouth to speak, when Draco suddenly sat upright. His eyes stared fixedly at Harry's right hand. Had it been his imagination?

No! It hadn't!

He bolted out of his seat. "Call a nurse," he said frantically, as he raced into Harry's room. Harry's hand was moving, and his eyes were beginning to flutter. "Harry?"

Harry didn't respond, though his eyes began to open. Faintly, Draco heard Harry's aunt call for aid, before she rushed in with a doctor and a Mediwitch.

"Good, he's waking up," the doctor said. He turned to the Mediwitch. "Take notes on how responsive he is." She nodded, before moving over to the other side of the bed. Draco had a gentle grip on Harry's hand, as she bent over.

"Harry, can you hear me?"

"Yeah…" His voice was cracked, but it was Harry. Draco nearly cried with relief.

"How do you feel?"

"I'm thirsty. May I please have some water? I promise I'll clean up afterwards…"

Draco frowned, leaning forward. That wasn't Harry…

The Mediwitch seemed to sense the same thing. She glanced at the doctor, who nodded. "Harry, darling, how old are you?" she asked softly.

Draco held his breath.

"Four…"

•••

"Draco, calm down…please. It's not good for you to be like this," Petunia pleaded. Draco was pacing back and forth, his hands clutching at his head.

"He doesn't remember me," he moaned. "I'm his Inima, and he can't even remember who I am! He doesn't know my name or anything! Not that he's a wizard, not Hermione, not Ron…the only person he knows is you!" With a small, choked sob, he collapsed into a chair in the hallway. Petunia sank down beside him, tentatively putting a soothing arm around his shoulders. "This is all my fault…if I hadn't brought him…this never would have happened…I'm such an idiot…"

"Draco, it's not your fault. That's already been established. No one knew Vernon would react like that…it was an accident. Don't worry…with time, Harry will remember you. That's what the doctor said. They'll just work with him for a week or so, and by then, he should be back to normal…"

"But what if he doesn't go back?" Draco lifted his head to look at her. His eyes were red rimmed, as he said in a strangled voice, "What if he's like this forever?"

"Be reasonable. He won't be four years old forever. With time, he'll grow, and more memories will come back…"

"But I don't want him to remember all the bad memories…only the good ones."

"And what good will that do him?" Draco looked at her with a small frown. Petunia met his gaze evenly. "Draco, if you had no bad memories…how would you be able to tell what a good memory was?" Made some sense… "If Harry had no bad memories, he wouldn't be the young man he is today. He wouldn't be the man you married. I have no doubt that every bad memory, as horrific as some were, helped to shape his personality, and give him the courage, kindness, and loving manner that is evident in the events you told me about. Without them, he would not be the same person."

Draco sighed. "But they hurt him…I can't stand to see the pain and fear when he remembers…I hate how he has to fight it alone…"

"But he's not alone. He has _you_. Yes, they're painful and terrifying. But he has you to help him through it all. Now, he needs your help once more."

"How can I help him remember?"

"Talk to him. Tell him stories. With time, they'll turn from stories into memories, that he can remember." Draco was amazed.

"That's actually a good idea," he admitted. "I'll do that. Thank you." She nodded with a small, sad smile on her face.

"Go on then. You confused him when you ran from the room." Draco stood, then hesitated, before swooping down and hugging her tightly.

"Thank you…"

"You're welcome. I just wish I could do more…to make up for…all those years."

Draco held her at arm's length. "You already are. This means a lot to me, and it will to Harry. Thank you."

With that, he returned to Harry's room, a bright smile on his face. Time to start his Inima on the healing path to recovery.

•••

"And that's where I am?" Harry's eyes were large, and Draco had to remind himself that Harry wasn't all there yet. "I'm in a magic hospital?"

"That's right…and the doctors wave their magic sticks around. Do you remember what that's called?"

"That's a wand!"

"Good job," Draco praised. It wasn't too difficult, talking to someone who had the mind of a four year old. Harry beamed. "And you know what Harry? You have a magic stick of your own too! They gave it to you a long time ago…you just don't remember. But you're a wizard too. You can do magic, a lot better than some adults can."

"Really? But I don't know any spells…"

"You just don't remember them right now." Draco sighed.

"Draco? Why am I here? Why do I need a magic doctor? Won't Uncle Vernon get mad? He doesn't like anything that's weird or freaky. That's why he doesn't like me. I'm a freak." It was said so matter-of-factly, yet it broke Draco's heart.

"No, Harry, you're not a freak. You're special. And well…Uncle Vernon isn't here anymore. He's gone."

"Gone where?"

"Just…gone. You won't see him anymore. It's just you and Aunt Petunia. Dudley went to a boarding school." Harry nodded in childlike understanding. "You're here because…well…you got sick the other day. Your mind and body just couldn't cope with the pressure that was put on you…so you fell asleep for a few days. And you forgot a lot of things." Draco felt a lump in his throat.

"Were they important?"

_Yes…_ "Well, we don't really know. They're your memories. You know what will help the doctors, Harry?"

"What?"

"If you try to remember. The doctors say that if you ever feel like you're dreaming, or remembering something, not to get distracted, but focus on that."

Harry was staring up at him in awe. "I will," he said adamantly. "I'll help the doctors so I won't be sick no more." Draco cracked a smile. Harry was adorable when he was four.

"Tell me a story," Harry murmured a few minutes later. His eyes were beginning to droop, but he rubbed them with one tired fist. "I want a story. Tell me something I don't remember."

Draco sighed. "Alright."

With that, he launched into a tale of happier times when he, Harry, and their friends played a friendly Quidditch match. Back, before all the darkness began to overtake them… Way back, near the very beginning.

•••

As the week progressed, Harry began to remember things. First, it was a simple memory. Who are Ron and Hermione? he had asked. How old is that man with the long white beard? What is his name?

Slowly, images came to him, and memories began to link together. Harry's mental age was now rapidly growing, as he began to relive first year, second year, third year, and so on. As the happy memories returned, so did the bad. Draco found himself comforting Harry more and more often, as the memories were relived as night terrors. Not even Dreamless Sleep potions would stop the abrupt jerk into awareness, as Harry screamed in horror and pain. Some nights were worse than others, and Draco would hold the sobbing boy for hours, until he had calmed.

Finally, came the question Draco had been both hoping for and dreading.

One afternoon, almost two weeks after Harry had awoken, Draco was reading in a chair near Harry's bed, as Harry leafed through the photo album Hermione had given him for his birthday, though he didn't remember.

"Draco? Why aren't you in many of these?"

Draco looked up. "Hm?"

"Well, Ron and Hermione are in most of them…it's only once I'm way older that I have any with you." Harry frowned. He had just reached fifth year mentally, and Draco knew he didn't have the memories yet. "Actually, come to think of it…I only seem to remember you in a bad way. I don't have any good memories. Yet that doesn't make sense…why are you here with me? I thought we didn't like each other…"

Draco sighed, closing his book and setting it aside. He clasped his hands together nervously. "Well…we didn't." Harry looked confused. "We actually hated each other, for no real reason. I was a Slytherin, you were a Gryffindor. It was just wrong to be friends. And, well…we didn't agree on a lot of things."

"So what changed?"

"A lot. You won't remember this until later…but the following year…you tried to commit suicide." Harry's eyes widened. "I discovered you, and got help before it was too late. I didn't know why I did what I did at the time…but out of the whole experience, we became friends. Eventually, our friends warmed up to each other as well. We had a lot of difficulties…but our friendship grew. Soon, we were best friends. After one incident with the Dark lord, you stopped me from trying to kill myself. We learned that there was a spy, but we didn't know who…all we had was each other." Draco swallowed thickly, remembering that night.

_The night everything had changed…_

He could remember gazing into Harry's emerald green eyes, as Harry's hand latched on to his arm, stopping the plummet from the tower. That was the night their friendship was sealed forever.

"We grew closer, and our friends grew closer as well. On a trip to Hogsmeade, however…we were separated, and I was captured. But you rescued me before they killed me…and it was then that you revealed something to me. Dumbledore had first discovered this…"

"What was it?" Harry's eyes were riveted on Draco. The blonde slowly lifted his gaze to meet Harry's.

"That we were Inimae. Soulmates." Harry recoiled in surprise.

"But I'm not gay!" His eyes narrowed. "You're lying to me, aren't you?"

"What?" Draco stammered. "No!"

"Yes you are! You're trying to mess with my mind, aren't you, Malfoy? Well, I won't stand for it! I'm not going to sit here and be made a fool of." Harry crossed his arms. "Bunch of bogus…best friends and all that jazz…that part was believable, I'll give you that. But this whole Inimae thing…soulmates? I'll bet you just made that word up! I've never heard of Inimae." He rolled his eyes. "You sicken me, Malfoy. Trying to do whatever it is you're plotting to do…that's what this was, huh? Trying to gain my trust, then make a fool of me? I don't think so!"

"Harry, I-"

"Get out. And don't call me Harry. If Ron and Hermione knew about this…"

"Ron is dead, Harry!" Draco was standing now, pain from his Inima's rejection stabbing into his chest and making it hard to breathe. Harry blanched.

"What?"

"He died a year ago…but you can't remember it! You can't remember anything that happened…all we went through…everything…you don't remember his death, you don't remember the Dark lord's…you don't even remember your own death!"

Harry was staring wide-eyed at him now, as Draco began to crumble. "You don't even remember me," he whispered.

"Get out." Harry's eyes were cold. "You're a liar. I thought maybe you had changed, Malfoy…but guess not. Next time, try to come up with a good lie. One that I'll believe. Now get out, before I get the nurse."

Draco stumbled backwards, blindly reaching for the doorframe. "Harry," he whispered. He reached out with his mind, but there was a foggy haze that blocked his mind from Harry's. He couldn't reach him. Not even Harry's emotions were coming through…they hadn't come through ever since the incident.

"Get out of here, Malfoy!"

With a strangled sob, Draco tore through the hallway, making his way to the lobby, before Apparating away.

He Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts, needing to get somewhere in particular. He went unnoticed because of a Notice-Me-Not charm, as he ran across the grounds. Soon, he was beside the tree. His tree. _Our tree._

Tears began to flow from his eyes, and he dropped to the ground, his back against the tree, as he buried his head in his arms. Sobs tore from his throat, as he began to mourn the bond that was now seemingly lost between him and Harry.

_Harry…oh Harry…I'm so sorry. You have to come back…please…I can't live without you…_

But, as it had been for the past two weeks, there was nothing but silence. Draco was alone, as he cried for his lost Inima.


	17. Chapter 17: Awakening

Harry stared at the door. Malfoy sure went to a lot of trouble on this one, he reflected. He could remember the many insults and hexes they'd hurled at each other; this was just like those times. He had to hand it to Malfoy – the lie had seemed pretty believable at first. Familiar, as if it were truth. But it wasn't. That was stupid.

He snorted, turning back to the photo album, and shutting it. Although, Malfoy sure wasn't giving up on this one…why keep insisting that something was true, even after the lie was found out? It made no sense. The hurt look in Malfoy's eyes was strange too. It was difficult to fake an emotion that strongly.

And the pictures…

Harry opened the book once more, flipping through the pages, until he found what he was looking for. He and Malfoy were grinning at whomever the memory was from. Malfoy had an arm around his neck, and he was trying to get away from the grip. Their mouths moved, but no words could be heard. Harry sort of wanted to know what was being said.

He turned the page. He was smiling at Malfoy…odd. Maybe they were friends…but soulmates? He scoffed at that. Probably just Malfoy teasing him. Harry's eyes roved to the next picture.

He continued to look through the pictures, stopping when the album ended. He had a frown on his face, as he tried to process all of the information he had. There was a slight niggling at the back of his mind, like he was missing something. Something important. His gaze fell on his hand, and he stared at it.

How had he missed that? There was a ring on his left hand. Married? To who? Wasn't he rather young? They told him he would be turning eighteen in a few months…and maybe some witches and wizards got married around then…but why? And who on earth would he marry? Cho Chang? No, that one faded. Ginny then? Ron would murder him before letting anyone marry his sister. And she was too young anyways.

The niggling sensation grew, and at first he fought it, before recognizing the sensation. There was something to be remembered.

"Aaugh!" A headache unexpectedly stabbed at him, and he fell back against the pillows, writhing in pain.

_He held onto Malfoy's arm, saving him from plunging to his death…only it wasn't Malfoy…it was Draco. Gazing into Draco's eyes after they were both safely in the tower…_

_Crabbe taking the curse meant for Hermione…_

_Draco being held by his father, fear on his face…_

_The rescue, and Nott's betrayal…_

_Feelings of love, of contentment, of fear, of happiness…_

_He turned, to see Draco smiling softly at him…_

Suddenly, more memories filled his mind, flowing in a nonsensical pattern, mashed together. Faster…faster…

_"Avada Kedavra!" Green light flashed, and Hermione's voice rang out._

_"Noooo!" He was surprised to hear his own voice. Then he saw the reason for it. Ron fell, his familiar freckled face frozen in time, determined until the end to fight for his best friend…_

_Only one more Horcrux to go…but they couldn't find it._

_A fire lit up the room…Draco sat across from him. They leaned closer together…Their lips sealed in a gently passionate kiss…_

_Snape sat beside his bed, while Draco held his hand. Snape was explaining something about creature inheritances…_

_Nervousness filled him, as Mrs. Weasley fussed with his collar. Why was he wearing dress robes? Hermione looked sad, but happy at the same time…Ron should have been there…_

_He and Draco, standing side by side…blood mingled, as they pressed cut palms to each other…Inimae, bonded by love and for all of eternity, even into death._

_Screams…Death Eaters…Goyle's body…Fear and panic…_

_The final battle._

_He stood there, triumphant, when a sudden, malicious feeling swept over him. Realization struck him, and he whispered, "It's me…I'm the final Horcrux…"_

_Pain, blinding pain, as he cast the curse upon himself. It became difficult to breathe, as he sunk down. Draco gathered him into his arms, and he looked up. "I love you," he whispered. Why would he whisper that?_

_Death, staring at him with a curious expression. The torment he suffered, knowing Draco suffered as well. The friendship and solace he found in Sirena…how she promised to deliver a message._

Faster…faster…memories flowed nonstop. Harry's body continued to writhe with the pain of remembering.

_How it felt when breath returned to him. He was alive…Voldemort was gone…_

_He was pregnant…and there was another spy._

_The attacks…pain…Draco's fear-filled eyes gazed at him, as he looked up through a haze of pain…_

_"Save our baby," he whispered to himself._

_The Marauders crowded around, each accepting their assignment, knowing what their task was…_

_More attacks…then finally…the birth._

_Lily._

_He gazed down at the tiny child. Was she really his? His and Draco's? Did they love each other? But how…?_

And suddenly, his eyes snapped open. His chest heaved, as if he had run for miles, without stopping for food, rest, or drink.

"Draco," he whispered. He remembered. He remembered everything. And the recent memories made him suddenly lean to the side and retch.

_His uncle loomed over him…blinding pain in his side…he was certain something was broken. Draco had been knocked out…Draco…he needed Draco. Something snapped in his mind, and fearfully, he retreated deep within himself…a foggy blur drifted over him…darkness…comfort…safety._

A Mediwitch came running in. "Are you alright, Mr. Potter?"

He sat up, wiping his mouth as she banished the mess. "Where's Draco?" he croaked. She looked at him curiously.

"Who?"

"My husband…where is he?" She brightened.

"Why, Mr. Potter, you remember now?"

His temper began to rise, as well as his fear. Where was his husband? There was still a fog around his mind, preventing him from simply reaching out and touching Draco's mind.

"Of course I do, otherwise I wouldn't be asking for him," he snapped. She recoiled slightly.

"I'm sorry…we've just been waiting for you to remember…he was awfully upset when you first woke up. You didn't remember him or anything." _Poor Draco…I'm so sorry,_ Harry thought sadly. "Anyways, he ran out of here about an hour ago. Seemed crushed about something. He didn't seem to see where he was going. Not sure what it was all about…"

He suddenly remembered one more thing…the words he'd said to Draco. Horror filled him.

_What have I done?_

With a grunt, he swung his legs to the side, sitting up and moving to stand. The witch stopped him. "You can't be getting up yet…you aren't well enough…"

"I'm bloody well enough to go find my husband, thank you very much," he snarled.

"But-"

"Don't touch me."

She backed off slightly, as Harry stumbled out of the bed. He glanced down at his attire, as he grasped the edge of the bed, trying not to collapse. Swaying, he glanced at the nurse. "Help me get dressed," he demanded. "I have to find him…before something bad happens."

_Hold on, Draco…_

Within minutes, though it felt like hours, he had dressed, with the help of the embarrassed Mediwitch, then he slowly and painfully made his way out to the waiting room. He collapsed onto a chair for a moment, panting heavily. Where would he look for Draco?

_Think, Harry…think…what place is important to him? He would feel so hurt after what happened…what would bring him comfort after such harsh words?_

His mind raced. Then it hit him.

_Our tree…_

Draco had always mentioned how that particular tree brought such good memories, and how he would always go there to ease his pain and reflect and remember after Harry had died.

That was where he would find Draco.

Taking a deep breath, Harry poured all of his strength and concentration into Apparition. With a loud crack, he was gone.

When he appeared at Hogwarts, he didn't pause to allow his body to readjust to the sudden change, instead casting a quick Notice-Me-Not spell, and racing through the grounds of Hogwarts. Finally, he could see the lake in the distance, and pushed himself even further, ending the spell.

He came to a slow halt, seeing a person huddled near the base, form shaking with sobs. Harry's heart sank.

_Draco…_

He stepped closer, his pulse pounding in his ears. "Draco?" he whispered. The blonde somehow heard, and looked up, his face tearstained. For a moment, they stared at each other. Harry broke the silence. "I remember," he whispered, and then collapsed.


	18. Chapter 18: Sirena's Warning

He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard words so beautiful. _"I remember…"_

But Draco wasn't allowed time to let the words sink in, for Harry's eyes suddenly rolled back in his head, and pitched forward. With a shout of surprise, Draco leapt up, barely catching his Inima before he crashed into the ground. "Harry?" Draco asked, worried. His Inima didn't respond, but he was breathing evenly. Draco sat on the ground, pulling Harry's frame against his own, and allowing the other to rest his head against the crook of his neck. Harry must be exhausted, having made it to Draco without aid. He was certain there was a doctor at St. Mungo's, wondering where the Savior of the Wizarding World had gone. Draco would make sure to send an owl later, with payment. But for now, he just wanted to cuddle with Harry while he slept, or whatever was going on.

A faint snore came from Harry, and Draco smiled softly. Yes, Harry was sleeping.

_I love you, Harry,_ he thought softly. _I'm so glad you remembered._ Wiping the tears from his eyes with his sleeve, Draco settled into a comfortable position, his arm around Harry and head against the tree, as he too began to feel tired. Soon, his eyes slipped closed, and he fell asleep.

•••

_"Draco…"_

_Draco looked around him. The soft feminine voice seemed to emanate from everywhere at once. It was familiar…why?_

_"Draco…"_

_He turned, coming face to face with Sirena. She had a grim expression upon her face, her eyes piercingly clear._

_"I have a warning for you…"_

_He frowned. "A warning?" he asked. His voice sounded strange, flat, in the barren dream world around them._

_"A warning. Dangerous times lay ahead, for you, and for those you love the most…and time is running out. Death draws near, Draco…you have only a few weeks left."_

_In alarm, he scrabbled for the pendant he wore. In the eerie light surrounding him, the pendant glowed with ethereal light. The eyes of the serpent were dark now, black swirls beginning to appear within. Panic welled up in him._

_"But…we need more time…there's been so much that's happened…"_

_"I know…and I wish I could grant you more time. But Death wants his prey…he wants to tear your love away from you, destroy who you are." Sirena's eyes flashed. "Don't let him…look to whom you least expect, for it is there you will find unexpected sacrifice. At the same time, beware those you trust the most, for it has proven to be a mistake in the past."_

_An image of Nott appeared, in a floating orb above Sirena's hand. She looked at the orb curiously, before clutching her hand into a fist. The orb disappeared. She turned an intense gaze on him. "You cannot imagine the evils of this world. They have touched you, but you were never willingly a part of them. You do not know the corruption that can take hold, and pull you under. Because of this, you are ignorant of the corruption that has crept amongst everyone around you. You cannot escape this, until you have gone to the source, and eliminated it. The Dark lord may be dead, but his influence lives on. You know of what I speak."_

_Yes. His father still lived. Bellatrix, Dolohov…they were still out there. Draco's heart clenched._

_"When will these dangerous times approach?"_

_A sad smile appeared on her lips. "They're already here," Sirena whispered. She began to fade from sight, and Draco was left, standing in the prison of his mind. He thought he could hear someone calling his name…his world shook. Slowly, everything turned to darkness, as he began to awaken…_

•••

"Draco! Harry! Honestly you two, wake up!"

Hermione's frantic voice reached the two of them, and both Draco and Harry sat bolt upright. "What's wrong?" Harry asked blearily.

Draco took in the frenzied appearance of the girl. Her hair was rumpled, and tears streaked down her cheeks. "Something awful has happened," she whispered. "I'm so sorry…it's…we aren't sure what went wrong…"

"What is it?" Draco asked, his heart pounding.

"Dumbledore…he's been murdered."

"What?" Harry stood, his wand out. His expression was livid. "Who was it? Do they know?"

"No one knows for sure…and that's not all." Hermione burst into tears. "Whoever it was…they broke into your quarters…they nearly killed Luna and Neville…and they took Lily!"

Within minutes, Draco and Harry were racing towards the castle, Hermione behind them. Fear for his daughter nearly caused Draco to trip and fall, as he and his husband made their way towards the infirmary.

They burst in, startling Madame Pomfrey, who was bent over a pale figure. "Luna," Harry whispered brokenly. "Madame Pomfrey…what happened?"

The Mediwitch looked up, her eyes red-rimmed from pent up tears.

"Someone killed Dumbledore in his office," she murmured, grief-stricken. "They used the Killing Curse…and we didn't discover it until after these two were attacked." She gestured towards the motionless Neville lying unconscious in the next bed. "Someone must have come to the door, and Luna and Neville were the only two on guard at the time. The person broke in, and used Sectumsempra several times on Neville, and then used the Cruciatus Curse on Luna…after which she apparently attempted to fight back. The assailant had a weapon of some sort, because there were multiple stab wounds all over the poor girl…I'm amazed she was even able to drag herself out to the hall. After having been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse for that long…Seamus and Dean found her, lying unconscious. The door to your room was open, and they found Neville nearly dead from bloodloss…and there was no sign of Lily. Anywhere."

Harry sat down dazedly in a chair, his eyes staring unseeing at the ground in front of him. Draco was pale, horror written in his expression as he gazed down at the unconscious Luna. "Who?" he asked in a breathless whisper.

"They don't know. Only these two know, and they won't wake up for some time…"

"Letter for Harry or Draco Potter," a trembling first year interrupted. "Professor McGonagall sent me to give this to you two. Said it was crucial. She would have brought herself, but she was…attending to business regarding the Headmaster." His eyes were wide with shock. "Is it true? Death Eaters attacked, and we didn't know it?"

"No…we aren't sure what happened," Madame Pomfrey said gently, looking around. Hermione was just entering the room, Blaise and Pansy behind her with hollow expressions of disbelief.

"But…Headmaster Dumbledore…is he…?"

"I'm afraid so," the Mediwitch said softly. The first year trembled more, then suddenly ran from the room, breaking into sobs as he ran to share the horrible news.

"A Dark mark is floating in the sky over Hogwarts," Blaise murmured. "Whoever it was felt bold enough to announce what happened. What's that?"

Draco looked at the letter in his hand. "It's from my father," he whispered, terrified at what it might contain. He stared at the familiar handwriting, before slowly opening the letter.

_Draco,_

_So it's all finally caught up with you now, hasn't it. Yes, as you suspect, I have you daughter within my possession, thanks to my final spy. You never did realize that all this time there was a third spy, and the best one yet, for no one knew…_

_My spy informed me of Potter's unfortunate incident, and assured me that now was the best time to strike…and so it was. Two birds with one stone, hm? In one move, I have eliminated one of the greatest wizards of all time, and captured your daughter._

_Now, if you wish your filthy spawn to live, you will come to me, and vow to join me in my quest to resurrect the Dark lord. If you don't, your precious daughter will die. Potter will still be killed, but at least you'll have your daughter to live for._

_Or, if you wish time to think about joining me, send Potter to me alone. His death will buy your daughter time. Choose wisely, my son…_

_I await your choice._

_L.S.M._

Draco finished reading the letter aloud. A silence lay over the entire group. Suddenly, Draco reacted.

With a loud cry of frustration, he crumpled up the paper, and threw it against the nearest wall. "I'll kill him!" he snarled, before falling to his knees and beginning to weep. "He has Lily…I can't…I won't join him…" He covered his face with his hands. "And I can't lose Harry…"

Harry looked up, his eyes dull. "You still have time to think, Draco," he said quietly.

"No, I don't. He expects a quick answer."

"Then I'll go to him."

"No!" Draco's head shot up.

"Draco, think. My time is nearly up anyways. There are no willing sacrifices…"

"Harry, we'd do it," Pansy interrupted.

"I refuse to let anyone else die for me." Harry's voice was firm. "Draco, you know the year is almost over. Death is going to take me back soon…I might as well go early, and give you a little more time to form a rescue plan for Lily."

Draco shook his head stubbornly. "No. I will not allow it…"

"He's already coming for me. I know Death…he won't keep his end of the bargain. He'll come early. I just know it. Either he'll wait for three more weeks…or he'll come when he is closest to me anyways, and take me back with him. He won't wait for the time to end." Harry stood, moving towards Draco slowly. "I'd rather die saving Lily, than live, and live with the knowledge that I might have been able to save her…"

Again, Draco shook his head. "I can't lose you," he whispered. "Not again..."

"But you're already losing me…Death is going to take me."

"No. He won't. Not if I can help it…"

Harry let out a frustrated huff. "Well, I won't sit around and let Lily be killed," he said in a quiet voice.

"She won't be." Harry rolled his eyes at Draco, then moved to leave. "Where are you going?"

"To go see Dumbledore…I have to say…to say goodbye," Harry said quietly. Hermione and Draco both tensed, as if to follow him. "No…I need to do this alone. He was like my father…"

"Harry, he was the same to me," Hermione whispered. Harry looked at her softly for a moment, before inclining his head in permission. Slowly, the two friends left the infirmary, leaving Blaise, Pansy, and Draco to wait for Luna and Neville to awaken.

Sometime later, as Draco was getting ready to head to Slytherin tower, since his and Harry's room was off limits at the moment, Hermione came dashing in.

"Harry's gone," she gasped. "He just disappeared…I think he's gone to meet your father."


	19. Chapter 19: Betrayals and Lies

It was nice in France. The sun was shining, there was a light breeze, and it wasn't too hot out. All in all, it gave off a deceptively peaceful feeling.

Draco scowled at the ground as he hurried along. He hated having to Apparate so far away from the manor, but he didn't want to trip any wards with Apparition. It would be different if he walked through them, supposedly.

He made his way up to the building without trouble, and slipped along the side of the manor. There was a similar secret passageway, just like the one in Malfoy Manor. He quietly snuck down the tunnel, opening the hidden door into the dungeon. It was empty. Softly cursing his luck, Draco set out to search for Harry.

He'd just taken a step out of the dungeon and into the corridor when he heard a cry of pain. _Harry!_

His mind instantly reached out to Harry's, but was blocked. Some sort of magical barrier had been cast over Harry. His father must know of the various Inima gifts then, because though he couldn't communicate with Harry, he could still feel his Inima's emotions.

Fear and pain overwhelmed him, and he forced himself on. The torture chamber. That's where Harry must be…

Slinking down the hallways, Draco kept a sharp eye out for whoever might be watching, but the building seemed deserted. They must be waiting for him, he realized with a start.

_What am I doing? I couldn't come up with a better plan? This is suicide!_ he thought fearfully. _We'll never make it out alive!_

Another scream caused him to hurry along even faster. As he drew nearer, he could hear Harry's voice echoing in the hallway. "Please…leave her alone!" Draco's heart nearly stopped, as he heard Lily begin to wail.

"I'm not harming the little brat…yet," came another voice. Bellatrix. His aunt cackled. "Just a little pinch here and there…nothing too bad. As for you, Potter…Antonin, if you would…"

"Crucio!"

Another scream from Harry, this time more hoarse, as if this was yet another torture amongst many. Draco crept closer, his face contorted in agony at his Inima's open fear and agony. "Such a weakling…I honestly don't see what my son sees in you," snarled Lucius' voice. "But nevertheless…he will come."

"No…he won't…." gasped Harry. "He's smart…they'll all come up with a plan…and you'll all go to Azkaban…aaaugh!" Another cry of pain.

"Whatever you say, boy. But you'll see. Perhaps I'll be merciful, and allow him to bid you farewell, before I end your pathetic life…do you regret destroying our Dark lord now? Do you regret choosing to continue living, rather than doing us all a favor and doing away with yourself? Worthless, pathetic wretch."

Draco's blood boiled. How dare his father insult Harry like that! "I'd do it all again if I had to," Harry snapped in response. Draco winced at the sound of breaking bone, and another cry.

"Stop!" he snarled, entering the room. His heart broke at the sight that met his eyes. His father and Dolohov loomed over Harry, while Bellatrix sat in a chair nearby, a basket on her lap as she watched the torture. A thin wail signaled Lily's presence.

Harry was barely recognizable. Dark bruises were forming, and there were numerous bleeding cuts that appeared quite painful and severe. One eye was swollen shut, his glasses having been broken and tossed aside. Blood streamed from his nose and mouth. Draco continued looking him over, horrified.

Harry's clothes hung in tatters, slashed by numerous Cutting and Slicing charms, and he appeared to have been burned as well. The extent of the damage was sickening, and Draco felt as if he would collapse right there. "Draco…" Harry breathed, his voice weak. "You shouldn't have come…"

Draco gazed at his Inima, anger rising. His father had done this…he would pay…they would all pay.

"Ah, Draco, so good of you to join us," Lucius chuckled darkly. "I knew you would."

"You know me well, Father," he spat in return.

"Come to relinquish your affections for this useless half-blood, and that filthy spawn of his? Realized that they mean nothing to you, and that you would rather join us as we wipe out those who oppose us?"

"I said you know me well, Father," Draco repeated, his voice low. "But apparently not well enough. I will never join you, and I will never abandon my love for Harry, nor for Lily. Petrificus totalus!"

Lucius ducked and the spell crashed into the wall behind him. As he straightened, his face hardened. "My boy, you should not have done that." He raised his wand threateningly.

At that moment, Bellatrix set the basket on the ground, casting a charm over it. Harry strained against his bonds, as she approached him. "Wait…" She smiled menacingly, as she paused, holding up a long fingernail. "Perhaps we can persuade him to see things our way. If not, then you may blast him, Lucius. Come, Draco, come a little closer…we won't bite…we wouldn't want you to miss the show."

Draco tensed, taking a small step forward as if to protect Harry. "Expelliarmus!" The voice was new, and Draco whirled around as his wand flew from his grasp.

"You!" he gasped. "But…how…why…?"

"Draco," his father sneered. "Did you really think I only had one spy at Hogwarts?" He motioned to the newcomer, who stepped forward with Dolohov. Each grabbed his arm.

"I did it because I think they have a chance," Braeden MacDougal said, his voice hard. "They want to purify the Wizarding World…for too long, it has been sullied with the likes of Mudbloods and Muggles. I want to help change that."

Draco struggled briefly. "You're a disgrace to the name of magic," he spat. "Turning in an innocent child, and taking an Inima from his mate."

"Inima?"

Bellatrix, seeing the shock flit across Braeden's face, quickly drew Draco's attention. "All minor inconveniences…and all for the greater good, of what we have planned. The Dark lord will reward you greatly, boy, when we have brought him back to our world." Draco's head whipped back around.

"You can't bring him back!" he wheezed, unable to breathe properly because of the angle his arms were held behind him. Again, he struggled, feeling his shoulders burning.

"We can, and we shall. No one will stop me in my quest," Bellatrix hissed. "Bring him closer."

"You never mentioned anything about Inimae," Braeden said, speaking up. Draco could hear confusion in his voice.

"It wasn't important," his aunt snapped.

"But the Inimae are sacred…"

"Did she also forget to mention that he is the last of the Viatacatre?" Draco said, suddenly getting an idea. Braeden's hold on him loosened.

"What?"

"It's not important," Bellatrix repeated, seeing her hold on the boy slipping. "I didn't expect you to know about such things. Now, I believe I told you to bring him-"

"I'm a Ravenclaw," Braeden interrupted. "Of course I know about the Viatacatre, and the Inimae…had I known, I would have agreed!"

"So what if he's some rare creature?" Bellatrix argued. "He's a filthy half-blood, and they need to be eradicated."

Braeden stepped forward, releasing his hold on Draco. "They are one of the oldest, noblest creature the Wizarding World has known," he said, his voice dangerously low. "They were…_are_…royalty. You kept this knowledge from me…"

"Like it matters to you."

Braeden's face was now contorted in anger. "I don't want anything more to do with this…"

Draco watched his aunt's eyes darken with madness. "You will listen to me, boy," she demanded, her hand tightening on her wand.

"I'm done!" He turned to Draco. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. "I didn't know…a Viatacatre…and an Inima…" Braeden reached into his pocket for his wand. "I'll make this right…" He turned, raising his wand, as Bellatrix raised hers. "Stupe-"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Draco's eyes widened, as the jet of green struck Braeden in the chest. "No!" shouted Dolohov, tensing. Even Lucius seemed to stir uncomfortably, as the boy collapsed limply, his wand clattering to the floor. Draco spotted the tip of his wand, hidden in Braeden's pocket.

"Dolohov, contain yourself," Bellatrix sniffed disdainfully. "He's just another spy. Replaceable."

"He's my nephew!"

"And a disgrace to the name of the Death Eaters. He turned traitor, Dolohov. Either he would die now, quickly by my hand, or he would die slowly and painfully at the hand of the Dark lord."

Dolohov shut his mouth and fell silent, but his grip tightened on Draco's arm almost painfully.

"Now…bring him closer."

Draco was forced forward, stumbling over Braeden's body, before he was looking down at Harry, who was lying deathly still. His eyes met Harry's pain-filled ones. "I'm sorry, Harry," he whispered briefly. "I tried…" Harry simply blinked at him, now too exhausted to respond.

"I believe he spoke to you, Potter. You should respond. I didn't hear you respond," Bellatrix cackled. She trailed her fingernail down the side of his face, causing Harry to wince as his wounds throbbed in response to the sharp edge. He let out another whimper of pain, as she suddenly dug her nail into his skin. "Well? Aren't you going to say anything?"

"Bellatrix, leave him alone…let's just get this over with," Dolohov said, startling them all. Bellatrix froze, before her gaze slowly traveled up to his face.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Dolohov released Draco. "I said stop torturing him, and just get this over with."

Bellatrix slowly straightened, her smooth, gliding actions reminding Draco of a coiled serpent, ready to strike. "Are you threatening my authority?" she asked, her voice calm. Her eyes were murderous, however. "I was the Dark lord's favored one. Are you saying that _you_ would rather be the one to make decisions?"

"No," Dolohov muttered, backing up slightly. "I'm saying you should just kill Potter now, so we can get on to more important matters…like breaking Draco's mind so he joins us."

"Not happening," Draco interjected. He suddenly stooped, and grabbed his wand from Braeden's pocket. He stood, his wand pointed at Dolohov. "I will not join you. Ever."

"We'll see about that…" Draco's eyes flashed to his aunt, his wand beginning to leave Dolohov. "Sectumsempra!"

"Nooo!" Draco cried, as Harry's back arched. His Inima let out a raw-throated scream, as blood erupted from his chest. Dolohov took a step forward.

"Bellatrix, just kill him already! Enough of this madness!"

"You will _not_ stop me," she snarled. Dolohov's face hardened.

"You killed my nephew…I think I've earned the right to do this…Stupefy!"

"Protego!" Bellatrix stared at Dolohov, her eyes wide with shock and rage. "You _dare_ to attempt to hex me?"

"I dare."

Draco was astounded. Dolohov was defending them? Well, granted, he was encouraging her to kill Harry…but only to stop the torture…what…?

Bellatrix was lowering her wand at him. "Wait!" Draco cried. He lunged at Dolohov, shoving him out of the way, as his aunt cast a Cutting charm. The spell crashed into his side, and Draco fell, clutching his ribs, as pain blossomed across his skin.


	20. Chapter 20: Death Takes What Is His

He saw stars as his head briefly collided with the ground, and felt a trickle of warmth down the side of his head; he must have gashed his head when he fell. Draco groaned, as he held up a hand before his eyes. His fingers were coated with red. Grimacing, he returned his hand to its former death grip on the wound in his side.

"Bellatrix, enough!" Dolohov shouted. "You're taking this too far!"

Draco was looking up at him, when he spotted something else. His eyes widened and he paled. He recognized that figure…the grey pallor, the one clouded eye…_Death_. He heard the menacing chuckle within his mind, as he scrabbled for the pendant around his neck. With horrified realization, he saw that the eyes of the serpent had darkened completely. They were pitch black.

_Time to pay up, _the voice of Death cackled in his mind.

_No…I just need a little bit more time…a little more time…it hasn't been a year yet!_

Everyone in the room slowly became aware of the ethereal being, and Bellatrix and Dolohov backed away slightly. Death smiled wickedly. "Please…carry on…I do enjoy a good show. Perhaps, if I am pleased…I may see fit to grant you a certain wish of yours," he suggested, his good eye landing on Bellatrix. She seemed unnerved by the other eye, which was turned in her direction, seemingly sightless. But then, understanding dawned on her, and her lips curved in a smirk.

"Of course…and I know exactly what I shall ask for," she snarled. Death lifted his chin in approval, before raising his hands.

His voice echoed darkly, as he chanted something. There was a loud cracking sound, and then suddenly a chasm appeared in the floor in front of him. Even from his prone position, Draco could see that a vortex appeared in the chasm. A portal to the Land of the Dead, he realized. That could only mean one thing. Death was here to take what was his. "Sirena!" he cried in desperation. "Help us!" His vision was becoming blurred, as blood began to run into his eyes.

Draco searched the room, but there was no response. Dolohov and Bellatrix were beginning to square off, and Lucius was standing on the other side of the altar, staring at Death. The chasm was gaping before him. No one was watching Harry or Lily. Wincing, Draco dragged himself closer to the altar where Harry was lying, and he reached up, taking Harry's hand in his. "Harry…" he whispered.

Harry's eyes opened blearily. "Draco…I'm so sorry," he murmured in reply. "But my time's up…"

"No, Harry…I won't let you go…" The ground shook beneath them, and Harry let out a small cry of pain as he was shaken roughly. Draco felt as if his arm was being yanked out of its socket, as Harry slid towards the edge of the altar. Draco's grasp tightened; if Harry fell off, he might miss the ground entirely, and fall into the vortex…

"Lily," Harry gasped hoarsely. Draco's eyes fell towards the basket that held their daughter, and his eyes widened in terror. Her basket was dangerously close to the edge of the rift in the ground…but so was Harry, who was now teetering on the edge of the altar.

Death laughed, as spells began to fly between Dolohov and Bellatrix. "Which is it going to be, Draco Malfoy? Your husband or your daughter?" Draco's gaze whipped between the two. If he let go of Harry's hand to grab Lily…Harry could very well lose his balance and fall in…but if he did nothing…Lily would be lost.

"Draco, look at me." Draco's forced his gaze to meet Harry's. His Inima's breath came in ragged gasps. "Get Lily out of here…okay? Save her…not me."

"Harry…"

Lucius turned, his eyes slightly unfocused. Draco looked up at him, knowing his father could easily take a step closer to Harry, and pull him away from Draco, sending him plummeting to his death. Or he could take a step closer to Lily, and send her basket over the side. "Father," he whispered pleadingly. "Please…help me…"

Lucius' eyes focused on Draco. For a moment, he was uncomprehending. Then…

"Draco…my son…" he murmured dazedly. "My son…"

Then suddenly, realization. In a single movement, Lucius stepped closer to Lily. Draco's heart stopped, as his father bent down. But to his surprise, his father grabbed the basket, and shoved it away from the abyss, before straightening. "Bellatrix!" he bellowed. "Turn around and face me!"

The witch paused, having managed to stun Dolohov. Her face whitened. "Lucius, what are you doing?" she hissed, her eyes bewildered.

"Righting the many wrongs I have committed," Lucius growled. "I may have hurt my son in the past…but he is _my_ son. And you have struck against him for the last time. You may be Narcissa's sister…but you are of no relation to me."

Bellatrix sneered at him. "You too? Have all of you gone mad? What of our plans? What of the Dark lord? Wouldn't you see the glorious future come to pass as planned?"

"I'd rather die, knowing that I have set things right by my son," Lucius answered.

"What changed?" Bellatrix asked, her bewilderment still evident. Lucius glanced at Death, whose chin lifted still higher, this time defiantly and perhaps even a bit angrily.

"I saw what could have been…and I gained perspective. I know what I have done…and how it has affected those around me…and I have seen the good it has wrought. But that good will end, if I do not end this darkness. So now, I am ending it." His gaze fell on Draco, as Bellatrix stepped closer. "Draco…do you forgive me?"

Despite the pain, Draco forced himself to meet his father's gaze. There, he saw regret, and grief for the many crimes he'd committed. He saw self-loathing, and sorrow, for everything he had done, every curse, every insult he had leveled at his son. In his heart, Draco knew. His father still loved him. And he knew what his answer was.

"I do, Father…"

Lucius smiled then, the first genuine smile without malice that Draco had seen in many years. "I'm proud of you, my son…"

"You fool!" His father's gaze shifted over to Bellatrix, who raised her wand. "Avada-"

Lucius moved. Faster than Draco had ever seen his father move, and aided by the knowledge that his son was in danger…

Bellatrix shrieked, as Lucius trapped her in his grip, her wand pinned behind her. As she struggled, Lucius dragged her, closer and closer to the chasm. With a final, chilling scream, Bellatrix disappeared from sight, still clutched in Lucius' grip. Draco watched disbelievingly as his father fell to his death, taking the last of the elite Death Eaters save for Dolohov with him. "Nooo!" he cried. He had never gotten the chance to talk with his father…didn't get the chance to say goodbye…

And right now, he didn't have the chance to dwell on his father's loss. Death was looming over Harry's form. "Leave him alone," Draco snarled, grabbing the edge of the altar and pulling himself up with some difficulty.

"No, I don't think I shall…he is mine, Draco Malfoy…You have failed to find a replacement for his soul…"

"What?" Dolohov approached, having recovered from being stunned. He appeared dazed by the simultaneous death of his two comrades, but was still semi-alert. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

"Do you not know?" Death gazed at Dolohov, making eye contact. Dolohov froze for a moment, much like Lucius had before his change of heart. Draco preoccupied himself with checking on Harry, whose eyes were closed. He still breathed, but very shallowly. Suddenly, Dolohov snapped out of his trance.

"So he needs someone to willingly offer their soul, in exchange for his life?" Dolohov demanded. Death's face soured. "Answer me, you foul wraith."

"Yesss…"

Draco's eyes snapped up. Was Dolohov thinking…?

He was. "I offer my soul, in return for the life of Harry Potter." Death recoiled his hand, which had been creeping towards Harry slowly.

"What?" he hissed. Dolohov was firm.

"I wish to offer my soul." Draco's eyes were fixated on Dolohov.

"Why?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe.

Dolohov looked down at him. "You saved my life…I ought to be dying right now. Bellatrix would have killed me. You could have let her…but you didn't…because you were willing to give me a second chance." He sighed. "You are a better man than I am. You both are. And I…I want to repay you, by giving you that second chance at happiness. There's nothing left for me anyways." He motioned at Braeden's body, still lying where he had collapsed. "My nephew is dead. Bellatrix is gone, and the Death Eaters are no more…I still hate Mudbloods. I still loathe Potter, and I still loathe you. But…if this is how I can make my peace, so be it." He pulled out Draco's wand, letting it clatter to the ground. "Luckily, Braeden gave your wand to me, and not to Bellatrix…so…I guess this is farewell."

Death had been standing still during Dolohov's miniature speech, and he sneered. "Touching. Very well, I accept your offer. Your soul in exchange for his. Though, if you ask me, it's a two-for-one deal. I mean, look at him!" Draco glanced at his Inima with a sinking heart. "He's already close to me. He won't last much longer but…if you insist…" With a throaty chuckle, he reached out to Dolohov. "You shall be mine as well. See you soon, Harry Potter."

He laughed cruelly once more, roughly grabbing hold of Dolohov's collar and dragging the man towards the abyss. Death paused, moved back to grab Braeden's body, and sniffed. "This one already belongs to me…what a sweet reunion the two of you shall have." He grabbed Braeden's body, and with unearthly strength tossed him towards Dolohov, who grunted as Braeden crashed into him. With a frightened glance at Draco, the man fell, clutching his nephew to him. Immediately, the chasm began to reseal, as Death hovered over Draco and Harry. "It is done…" he snarled. With that, he began to fade away, until he was gone.

They were alone.

Harry's breaths rattled in his chest eerily. Draco felt his vision dimming, as he continued to bleed from his head and his side. "Hang on, Harry," he murmured dizzily. "Hang on…"

Perhaps it was just the head wound affecting him…but were Harry's breaths slowing? "Harry?"

No response.

"Harry! No…Merlin, no, no, NO! Not again! Harry, don't you…don't you dare…" Draco grabbed his Inima's shirt, vaguely aware of the hot blood that poured over his hands. The chest wound was sapping his Inima's strength…he was losing him…

_See you soon, Harry Potter…_ Death's words echoed in his mind.

"No…please…Harry…you can't die…" he whimpered. "You can't…"

A soft, glowing light began to fill the room. Draco opened his eyes, his vision still clouded with blood and tears. But he managed to make out yet another familiar visage. "Sirena," he whispered. "Help me…please…"

The Siren of Death gazed down at the two, Draco huddled protectively over Harry, who lay still and cold, barely hanging on to life. "I will do what I can," she whispered. "I cannot heal him…but I can do this." Sirena slowly leaned down, before pressing her lips to their foreheads – first to Harry, then to Draco. Her lips burned, as only the coldest of ice could. Draco felt a peace sweep over him, and the pain dulled, until he was numb. "The both of you will survive…until help arrives. The coin within your pocket shall aid you."

The coin.

Draco stiffly reached into his pocket, and his fingers found the smooth metal of the fake Galleon. He rubbed it, feeling it warm in his hand before cooling. The message was sent.

"I wish I could do more…but it is not within my power to do…I do hope we shall meet again, Draco Malfoy-Potter…and under better circumstances. Farewell…"

As Sirena faded away, Draco's world began to fade as well. He only had time to press a gentle kiss to Harry's lips, before all went black. There was a loud crack, as he slipped into unconsciousness.


	21. Chapter 21: Cherish These Days

**A/N:** Here it is, the final chapter. :) Thank you so much for all of your support during the writing of both Escaping Darkness and Achieving Light. Reviews are always very much appreciated. And now, enjoy!

* * *

Voices filtered in through the hazy mist of semi-consciousness.

"How long do you think it will be?"

"I cannot say…it has been long enough already, and they should have awoken long before now…I suspect their minds are healing from the trauma. It was a very odd sequence of events that they went through, and I'm sure there is more to it than what we know."

Blackness, then some time later, more voices.

"Will they survive?"

"Perhaps…though I am more concerned about Harry's welfare…he was the more gravely injured…"

_Harry_…

"Draco, wake up…you've got to wake up and take care of Lily…"

_Lily…_

He could not wake.

•••

He was floating in a cloud of dulled pain. Though it was tolerable, he could sense it lapping at the edges of his mind, waiting for the moment it could strike. All around him was white. No color, no sound, just white.

_Harry…_

A whisper seemed to ring in his ears, the first sound he'd heard in awhile. He looked around.

_Harry…_

Again, the whisper. He tried to answer, but he couldn't.

_Your Inima needs you, Harry…_

Draco! He must be so worried…

_Arise, Harry…awaken…your daughter needs you as well…_

And Lily! Who was looking after her?

_Your friends are caring for her…as they care for you and your Inima. But they need you, Harry…_

He simply could not wake.

•••

"It's been far too long, Severus," Minerva McGonagall said sadly, staring down at the lifeless bodies stretched out on the beds. "Poppy says that if they remain comatose like this for much longer, permanent damage may occur."

Severus Snape sighed. His dark eyes took in the cold, still figures of his godson and the Savior of the Wizarding World. "There's not much we can do but wait," he murmured. Rare emotion glittered in his gaze, as he gazed sorrowfully at the two. "We must trust Fate will intervene, and bring the two back to the world of the living."

"But they're so cold…if it weren't for the heartbeat and the shallow breaths, they may well be dead!"

The Potions Master shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger. "And that, I'm sure, relates to the otherworldly struggle they face. You and I both know and remember what Albus told us. 'I suspect that Harry and Draco will yet encounter Death's grasp before this is over', he said. I believe that is what we are looking at now. Death's unwillingness to let his prize escape him. It is only because of luck, or perhaps some other being, that they even remain alive."

Minerva dropped Harry's hand, which she had been cradling in her own. "Return to us, Harry," she whispered. "You as well, Draco. The world is a darker place without the light of your love to shine in it." She stood, and began to slowly make her way from the room, following her coworker. Behind her, the two Inimae continued to lie peacefully, as they had for two weeks.

•••

Cold fingers gripped his soul. Draco could feel it. He knew he must wake, but he couldn't, not with the icy tendrils lodged in his mind. Again, he tried to force the imposing presence from his soul, but to no avail. He needed more strength than what was available to him.

_Draco…_

He gave up struggling in favor of searching for the voice. It was the same voice he'd heard many times before, but hadn't yet found the source. This time, however, he could sense another, more benevolent presence reaching into his mind. Suddenly, he recognized the figure, as its features became clearer.

Sirena.

The wraithlike woman seemed to smile, though she was not tangible within his mind.

_Draco…stretch out your hand…find your Inima. The time has come for you both to wake._

He tried to move, but couldn't.

_Use your most powerful gift – your love for your husband, your love for your daughter, and your love for your friends. Love can and will overcome all boundaries._

Draco gathered his will, seeking out the warmth that accompanied his thoughts of Harry and Lily, seeking to harness that love that could flow through him, and lend him the necessary strength.

He broke through the fog that surrounded his mind, tearing himself to the limits of his mind, though the icy fingers tried to hold him back.

_Draco?_

He knew he'd found what he was looking for. _Harry? It's me…It's Draco…_

_I love you, Draco._

_As I love you. Try to latch on to my mind, Harry…we've got to throw off Death's grip. Otherwise, he'll win us both!_

_I can't…_

_You've got to! For Lily…for your friends…for me._

He could sense Harry's struggles to reach his own mind. Then with a flood of emotions and passion and overwhelming love, their minds connected, sending brilliant sparks racing through Draco's mind. With barely any effort, he lifted Harry's mind into his own, where the two minds melded in some ethereal and intimate embrace. He sensed the fingers dig in even deeper within his soul.

As if she were resting a hand on his shoulder, Draco felt Sirena join Harry and him. _Now…prove to Death that love conquers all,_ she whispered, before fading away.

Determination flowed through him, as he and Harry's minds melded even further. _You cannot have us,_ Draco screamed with his mind. _You cannot have us…we are Inimae, and not even Death shall break us apart. Release us!_

In a blast of power, his and Harry's combined, Draco launched an attack at the offending presence. He heard an enraged hiss, and felt the deathly grasp begin to slip. Again, and again, he released power, and slowly, Death's fingers came loose from his soul. Finally free, Draco relinquished his hold on Harry's mind, tearing his soul loose and willing himself to awake. There was a flash of white light, a roar of defeat echoing in his ears, and then, sight, smell, and sound came rushing to him.

His eyes blinked open.

•••

As Draco's eyes opened, so did Harry's. Harry sat up, feeling dizzy and pained from the numerous wounds that were yet healing, but otherwise recovered. Beside him, Draco mimicked his movements, gazing around him in wonder. Bandages covered the both of them, with Harry even more covered, but they were both alive. Green eyes locked with grey, and for a long moment, neither moved, save to breathe. Then, slowly, their mouths spread into grins, and finally, Harry began to laugh. He laughed at the absurdity of it all; he laughed in relief at it finally being over; he laughed for joy at being alive with his Inima to enjoy it all; and he laughed simply because he could.

After a moment, Draco joined him, and the two laughed together, before Draco shakily stood up from his bed and moved to slip into Harry's. The two snuggled close, Draco spooned around Harry, as their laughter faded. Harry rolled over to bury his face into the crook of Draco's neck, content to inhale the scent of his Inima. Draco's hand was warm and gentle where it rested on his hip, lightly tracing patterns with his thumb. "We're alive," Draco whispered. "It's all over. We're free."

Harry smiled, looking up and capturing his husband's lips with his own. "It's over," he agreed softly, his breath ghosting over the other's mouth. "We can live our life, the life we dreamed about living."

"Harry? Draco?" Harry rolled over again, and both boys looked up to see Petunia standing there, having just entered the room. Her face paled with relief, and she raised her voice. "Poppy! Come quick! They're awake! Oh sweet heavens, they're awake!"

At the sound of her cry, Madame Pomfrey came running, her eyebrows raised in concern. When she saw the two boys very much awake and very much alive, she breathed in relief, rushing over with wand raised. She cast the necessary spells to read their vitals, her eyes lightening with joy. "Go get the others," she breathed to Petunia, who nodded and raced off with uncharacteristic speed.

To a bemused Harry and Draco, she beamed. "You had us worried sick, you two. When you didn't wake…we thought you…well…" Her eyes filled with happy tears. "Bless you, you're awake!"

"How long have we been out?" Draco asked. Harry's hand found his, tightening. "And where's Lily?"

"She's right here. Oh, Harry, Draco, I'm so glad you're alive!" Hermione's familiar voice reached their ears, as the girl hurried towards them. A squirming bundle was cradled in her arms. She quickly handed the baby over to Harry, who clutched his daughter to his chest. Draco propped himself up on one elbow so he could gaze in relief at his daughter. "You two have been out for two and a half weeks! Even Snape was concerned about you two, and you know how he is…"

"I would appreciate such things being left unsaid, Ms. Granger," Snape sniffed, coming up behind her. Behind him trailed Blaise, Pansy, and the entire group of Marauders, all of whom had some sort of relief or joyful tears written on their faces.

"What happened? How did you find us?" asked Harry.

"Well, Draco managed to alert us with the coin," Hermione said, reaching out and grabbing onto Harry's hand. "And Blaise knew about your home in France, so he helped us with Apparition. When we got there, we found Lily safe in her basket, and you lying unconscious on that horrid altar thing with Draco draped over you. We all thought you were dead, but once we felt your heartbeats, we rushed you all to St. Mungo's. They treated you for a week, but then were forced to send you here, since there was a Death Eater attack later. We captured the rest of the Death Eaters, Harry! They're all in Azkaban, dead, or completely reformed." Hermione grinned happily.

"What I want to know," Snape interrupted. "Is why Draco was so gravely injured. Isn't the ring you wear supposed to protect you from any harm?"

"Intentional harm," Draco corrected. "I…um…I leaped in front of Dolohov when Bellatrix cast a spell at him," he muttered. "Everything was accidental."

"And he complains when I act like a bloody hero," Harry teased. "But it was good that he protected Dolohov…in fact, Dolohov's the only reason I'm still alive." Everyone expressed surprise. "I'm sure all of you know how Death had staked his claim on me, and how he vowed to return in one year?" Nods from most of the group. "He said if I found a willing sacrifice, our souls could be exchanged. And…well…Dolohov volunteered, believe it or not." He explained the happenings in the dungeon, starting from where Draco had entered, to where Death had accepted the sacrifice, with some help from Draco.

At the end of their story, everyone was silent. "I'm surprised he did that," Hermione said quietly. "But all the more grateful to him, for giving you a second chance at life. He may have been a coward for the most part…but that was brave of him."

Harry nodded. "It was." He looked down at Lily who, upon having been reunited with her parents, had been happily burbling throughout the conversation. "We did it," he said softly. "We managed to escape the darkness of our past, and we achieved the light of the future."

"So what now?" Draco asked softly. Harry smiled over his shoulder at him.

"We live our lives. Raise a family, rebuild what has been lost, and hold dear the memories of those lost. We enjoy the life that has been given us. We cherish these days."

* * *

**Chapter End Notes: **And there ya have it folks. *sniff* It's been a long journey, but I am glad to have written a story that some of you can enjoy. Don't know if I'll write any others, but if I do, I look forward to being able to write for you all again. Feel free to message me at any time, with requests or suggestions. No guarantees, but I will at least read and respond to any questions or requests. :) Ciao!


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